Reflections
by The Last Letter
Summary: Sam Manson, new to Amity, is being bullied by the school's elite, including golden boy Danny Fenton. Her only comfort in is the ghost boy who saved her after a vicious ghost attack. As Sam falls deeper into the web of Amity drama, she is just struggling to keep her life afloat. DXS Image by Torosiken
1. Chapter 1

I picked at my skirt, a little nervously, as I made my way toward my new school. _Casper High_. It wasn't very glamorous and it certainly wasn't the boarding school I was used too, but I had no issue with that. The sooner I put my boarding school – and my life in New Orleans – behind me the better. And Amity was just the place for me to do this.

The first thing I noted (_noted_ not _judged_ as much as some people are annoying pains in my ass, they still have the right to be who they are) was that Casper was separated into cliques. It usually wasn't this obvious, but Amity was a small town for America, and the school had more classrooms than students. It wasn't a surprise that it was easy for the separate groups to spread out across the lawns and front steps, and probably inside too. Although why anyone wanted to waste more time indoors on this beautiful September day was beyond me. Yes, Goths can find beauty in September days. Problem?

Anyway, as I continued my quick evaluation on my way inside (transfer student, you know, got to report to the office first thing) the first thing that caught my eye was the cheerleaders. They were parked on the picnic bench closest to me with the football jocks battling over a football. This, in itself, was not very unusual. What caught my eye was that the girl in the middle (who was stereotypically the head cheerleader, queen bee, most beautiful girl on campus and most popular girl) was not in a cheerleading uniform. She was undoubtedly the queen bee, but she was not one of them. Hmm. A queen bee who was not a cheerleader? Perhaps this school was going to be different.

I mounted the steps of Casper and slipped inside without any incident, which was refreshing. No doubt I was being judged from afar, but with no confrontations over it, I was feeling pretty good. That feeling began to fade, however, when I realized I had no idea how to find the office. I bit my lip, but marched forward determinedly. My combat boots seemed to echo around the halls, which gave the school an eerie feel. It seemed so empty. But that was ridiculous. How could a school be empty twenty-five minutes to the bell on the very first day?

I then turned down the wrong hallway and found out how.

Now, before I go any further, I am not an idiot. I did research on Amity before we moved here and found out why the name sounded familiar. It was the most haunted town in America, probably the world. It was the home of the infamous ghost kid and world renowned paranormal scientists, Jack and Maddie Fenton. It had been featured on the news several times for various spectral attacks, damage, hauntings, world famous ghost hunters coming in to hunt ghosts and how it was no longer the tourist attraction it once was because of the many hauntings. So yeah, I had prepared myself for spooks.

However, to find a fight right in front of me on my third day was something I had not been able to prep myself for. There was a huge dragon filling the entire school hallway. It roared when it noticed me and the air blast forced me off of my feet onto my ass. There was another ghost too, swatting around the dragons head. The second ghost I recognized on sight. It was the infamous ghost boy of Amity Park – Phantom or something. I had a vague memory of him once being called Inviso-Bill but I ignored it.

Except, it looked like Phantom was more annoying the dragon ghost than actually fighting it off. The dragon roared again, and I clenched my eyes shut, beginning to crawl backwards, trying to get out of the hallway. I had sat there, staring, for too long. My survival instinct kicked in but not in time. The dragon ghost swiped at me with its claws, probably thinking I was some new predator. I screamed when it made contact. Obviously, I had not done enough research. I hadn't expected ghosts to be able to touch me, let alone hurt me.

My eyes flew open as I stared down in horror at my newly acquired wounds. The claws had slashed across my torso, ripping my t-shirt and leaving deep gouges that gushed blood. I cried out again in horror as I surveyed my mutilated body, and then another screamed ripped from my throat as my mind stopped disassociating from my body and then pain hit. Oh my god. Did the pain ever hit. I wrapped my arms around my body in an attempt to keep myself together. My arms quickly become slippery with my own blood and tears.

"Hold on!" A voice shouted.

I fell to the floor and prayed that the voice was for me. I prayed the voice was that of a teacher or student that would call for help, call 911, just get me out of here!

I screamed again, unable to contain the agony that was tearing my body apart from the inside out. Another sound washed over my ears. A scream I knew was not mine. Then there were hands on me, rolling me over, exposing my wounds; the blood, the torn flesh, even part of my uncovered breast. I forced my eyes to see over the blur of my tears to focus on the snow white hair and bright green eyes of my savior. The ghost kid.

"Hold on." The boy whispered, and I recognized it as the voice from before. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

I struggled to focus on him, but I could literally feel my consciousness dripping away. And I let it happen. Never-ending blackness seemed a pretty good idea right now. I couldn't face this pain. And you know what, the hospital sounded like a damn good idea too.

(-.-)

I didn't wake up in the hospital. I woke up in my own bed, in my new house. My chest was tightly bound in bright, white bandages, but I could see soft specks of blood peeking through. I tried to sit up, but the small effort exhausted me. I collapsed back against my pillows, my breathing heavy. I tried to stop the breathing. Breathing hurt.

"Mom?" I forced out.

"Ooh!" The shout came from down the hall. "Sammykins!"

I cringed at the name. My name is Samantha (which I detest but will put up with from the following: elderly people and royalty). I go by Sam. My mother prefers to torture me by calling me 'Sammy' or 'Sammykins' or (and this is the worst, are you ready for it?) 'Sammywammybooboo'.

"You're awake!" She continued. I could hear her trademark heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "Dr. Higgins! She's awake!"

My door flung open and my mother – all bright hair, low cut dresses and fake smiles – burst in, followed by Dr. Higgins. The doctor was, thankfully, a woman. I, who had no qualms about my body, still would have been embarrassed to know that a man had been the one to take care of my chest. Although … a slight blush tainted my cheeks. The ghost boy who had been there had seen my left boob. You know what? Whatever. It was a boob. And he was dead. So no big deal.

Right?

"Samantha," Dr. Higgins smiled down from me. "How are you feeling?"

"A little sore," I answered, respectfully. Add 'life saving medical professionals' to my list of people who could call me 'Samantha'.

"Well, I can imagine that is to be expected." She pulled down my comforter to check my bandages. She tsked when she saw the blood. "Any pain?"

"Just mild discomfort," I replied, although now that she was fixing the bandages, I was more than a little uncomfortable.

"Well, I left some painkillers with your mother. Two every four or so hours for the first few days and then slowly cut down. I will be by every other day to check on you unless otherwise called upon. My nurse, Daniella, will be by three times daily to change your bandages." Dr. Higgins explained. "I wish there was more I could do for these. But there was not enough flesh left to stitch together, so this is going to be quite a long healing process."

My face twisted as I looked down at the bandages and imagined the gory mess that lay beneath. I didn't want to know.

"Thank you for everything Doctor." Mother smiled. "Especially for the house call, but I just couldn't bear the thought of my Sammy in a hospital all by herself."

"It's quite all right, Mrs. Manson," Dr. Higgins replied, "and Samantha is fine as an outpatient as long as you take it _very_ easy." She gave me 'the look'. That one that all adults seem to know and use when they demand someone younger than them to do exactly what they say. "No getting out of this bed for at least another week. I will give you a further evaluation at that point in time."

"What about school?" I burst out. Not that I particularly cared, but education was the only way to escape my mother. "It just started today and I'm already missing it."

"Well I'm afraid that you have to stay here." Higgins eyed me. "Perhaps your mother can arrange for a tutor?"

"Oh yes." Mother collapsed her hands together. "That seems like a wonderful idea."

Dr. Higgins glanced at her watch. "I really must run, but I will be in touch Mrs. Manson."

"Of course, Doctor. I will show you out." Mother's fake grin seemed to grow wider as she swept out of the room with Dr. Higgins.

I relaxed into the pillow, sliding back under my comforter. I probably wouldn't seem Mother again for a long while. We had this system – I stayed out of her way and she stayed out of mine. The only thing she ever demanded of me was to be present when social situations demanded it and in return I was handed more freedom than most seventeen-year-olds had.

I pulled the covers up, and noted how my arms ached in the process. Maybe I would have to call on Mother for that pain medication Dr. Higgins had left for me. I allowed my eyes to drift shut, but only for a moment. I suddenly pulled them open again. The room had dropped several degrees and I felt like I was being watched. Fearful of another attack, I tried to stay silent but my chest was heaving in fear, and it pulled on my wounds. A whimper escaped my lips.

"Don't panic."

I immediately tensed. There was a voice coming out of fucking nowhere. And I was naked except for my skirt and the bandages. And a male voice was coming out of nowhere.

"Not panicking." I responded.

"I'm gonna show myself." The voice warned.

I couldn't decide if this was better or worse than the current situation, so I let him do what he want. Faster than I could blink, the ghost kid materialized at the end of my bed. I let out a sigh of relief because I knew he wasn't going to hurt me.

"Thank you for saving me." I blurted.

"Yeah, well," he looked down at his feet. "I wish I had noticed you were there before you were attacked."

"Still, thank you. I could've bled to death in Casper High, of all places."

That got a grin out of him. "It's definitely not an ideal resting place." He looked up at me. "My name is Phantom."

"Sam," I responded. "I've heard about you on the news."

He looked a little uncomfortable at that. "Damn cameras." He cursed. "Look, no matter what the news is telling you, I'm not actually a villain."

I shrugged. "I base my opinions on what I see, no what others show me. To me, you are a hero."

"Thanks." He smiled at me. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "just a week or more of bed rest to get me mostly healed and then go from there."

"I'm glad. That ghost is not usually a dangerous one, I don't know what got into her today."

"Her?" I demanded. "It has a gender."

"What?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Did you think that ghosts don't have a gender?" He struck a pose. "Do I look like a female to you?"

I giggled, and it hurt. "Why did you come see me?" I wondered.

"I wanted to see if you were okay and I was curious. I'd never seen you around before and as Amity's unofficial protector, I needed to be sure you weren't a villain."

"As I'm certainly not." I jutted my chin out.

"No," he said quietly. "You're not."

**Well, just a new story idea I'm attempting to run with. Let me know if you like it and/or if you want a companion piece in Danny's POV. I don't own **_**Danny Phantom**_**.**

**~TLL~**


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam?"

I looked up at my tutor, Jazz. She was in college and tutoring as an odd job, as she had explained right off the bat.

"Yes?"

I had been on bed rest for four days already and I was going out of my mind. I felt, not only in pain, but disgusting. I wasn't able to shower.

"Did you read the chapter last night?" Jazz inquired, her eyes huge and blue as she studied me.

"Of course." I fingered the book, which I didn't believe was grade twelve level but it made my life a hell of a lot easier.

"Then why did you fail this pop quiz?" Jazz waved around the paper she'd marked moments ago.

"I dunno. I guess I wasn't thinking. It's kind of hard to concentrate." Through the pain and the painkillers my mind felt like a permanent swamp.

"Okay, but you're going to have to concentrate a lot harder." Jazz was studying me and I felt uncomfortable. Jazz wanted to be a child psychologist and I always felt like she was trying to analyze me.

"School just started." I rolled my eyes. "How difficult can it be?"

"Senior year is_ very_ import," Jazz lectured, "especially with the advanced classes you're taking."

I didn't even have a full schedule this year. I only took four to round out the credits I need to graduate. But yeah, I'm in 'advanced' courses. First semester: advanced math and advanced English. Second semester: pre-calculus and calculus.

"This stuff all comes easy to me." I admitted. All I really needed was someone to bring me the work; I could usually figure it out on my own.

"If it comes so easily," Jazz said in a way I found suspicious. "You should really think about becoming a tutor."

"I dunno about that." I said hesitantly.

"It's easy money," Jazz pushed. "What's not to know?"

She had me there. I hated taking money from Mother when I didn't have too. I hated feeling like I owed her more than I already did. "Maybe." I said. "Once I'm healed."

"Excellent!" Jazz grinned. "I know my little brother, for one, could benefit from your math brain."

I just nodded and picked up the novel I was supposed to be reading.

(-.-)

I edged myself over to the side of my bed. I wasn't supposed to get out of bed for anything but bathroom breaks. Except it was three a.m., I was bored and I was really starting to hate my bed. Wrapping my comfort around me, I made my way out to the balcony attached to my room. It took me three times as long as it would were I in fit condition, but at least moving didn't cause me to pass out anymore.

I had just settled myself so that I was surrounded by my comforter and that I was leaning against the house when I saw him, and, before I could think about it, I called his name. "Phantom."

The boy stopped midflight and hovered a few feet away from my house. "Sam?" He asked. "What are you doing outside?"

"Haven't you ever heard fresh air is good for you?" I responded. "What are you doing out?"

"Patrolling." He floated over to me and levitated cross-legged over my balcony.

Good. I was in the mood for a chat. I was used to being by myself, yes, but I usually didn't feel lonely. Not like I had been lately. "For other ghosts?" I clarified.

"Anything that's a threat." He shrugged.

I took the time to study him in the small silence that followed. During our brief conversation several days ago, I had been too out of it to really look at him. My initial observation during my first sighting of him held true. He _did_ look like a teenage boy. His muscles showed through the spandex black suit he wore. He had white gloves and boots on, as well as white belt. It was hard to tell his height from how he was positioned, but he wasn't giving me the impression that he was small in stature. His features were defined, although hidden by his mass of thick, white hair. His green eyes stared at me, giving me the impression he was studying me as I was him.

"So," I fished for a conversation starter.

"So," he echoed. "Why did you move to Amity?"

I paused and my mind flew over the past few months. "My mother decided she needed a change." I replied.

"Where'd you come from?" Phantom continued.

"My turn to ask a question." I thought for a second. "Your real name, it's Danny, right?"

He nodded. "Danny Phantom."

"Weird."

"What's weird?"

He now had a challenging expression on his face.

"You seem like a person." I bit my lip, wondering if I should go on. "I mean, obviously you were a person once, but I guess, " I squinted up to him, trying to put my thoughts into words, "I guess it's just hard to remember that you're dead."

"The floating didn't give it away," he gestured to the space between him and the ground.

"Forget it." I told him in a huff. "You're just making fun of me now."

"I'm not making fun of you," he swore, but he looked amused. "And you're not the only one to tell me I'm more human than ghost."

"Oh yeah? Like who?"

"Maddie and Jack Fenton."

"The ghost hunters?"

Phantom chuckled. "Yeah, them. We're on surprisingly good terms considering they want to hunt and dissect me."

"That's really gruesome." I made a face. As a rule, and it's what lead to my vegetarianism, I was against hunting, dissecting, using animals as experiments and killing/eating anything with a face.

"You get used to it."

I was shocked at how unphased he seemed with it all, until I realized. He was dead. He probably had a ton of ghost powers. Humans couldn't scare him in the least.

"I wouldn't be able too." I admitted. "How long have you been dead?" I blurted, before realizing how completely insensitive it was.

He looked sad when he answered, but he did answer. "About three years now."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't worry about it. I've come to terms with it."

I was still fascinated by the ghost thing. I mean, who wouldn't be? After I got over the fact that my new acquaintance was dead, I was just incredibly curious. "Do you mind me asking questions?"

"No." Phantom shook his head. "Go ahead."

"Do you remember your human life?" I blurted. This was the concept of death I could never get my head around, the fact that I would cease to exist, or that I would cease to remember my existence.

Phantom smirked. "Very well. Although most ghosts can't."

"So why can you?"

"What happened to taking turns asking questions?"

I recognized a deflection when it came around. "Okay, your turn."

"How old are you?" He asked.

"Seventeen. How old are you?" I responded.

"Seventeen." He answered.

"Were you that age when you died or what you should be now?"

Phantom narrowed his eyes at me. Oops. I'd hit a nerve. He uncoiled his legs. "Maybe I should get going. It's late."

"Wait." I stretched out a hand, as though to grab him, but I winced at the pull on my muscles. He flinched away from my touch anyway. "I'm sorry I offended you."

"I'm not offended." Phantom fidgeted. "I just don't like questions like that."

"I'm sorry. I just … I thought we could be friends." I bit my lip, before confessing. "I don't have any friends."

Phantom looked at me. His feet touched the ground and he sat across from me. His lips quirked up into a grin. "I don't have many friends either . . ." He admitted. "But . . . are you sure you want to be friends with a dead person?"

I nodded. "I haven't had any luck with the living."

Phantom threw his head back and laughed.

(-.-)

It was strange to be going back to school. I had ended up being completely bedridden for two weeks, but now I was back on the move. My friendship with Phantom was growing stronger. He came by every night to talk to me and I had never felt more connected to a person in my entire life. He was witty and extraordinary and he understood me. Even on the night I was whacked out because I had taken too many pain meds and, this is what I remember most from that night, kept calling him 'Squirrel' and trying to eat my blanket, he still sat next to me. Granted, he was laughing at me, but whatever.

I found my way to the office, like I should have on my infamous first day. It was like a slap in the face to realize that the office was in the opposite direction I had been heading that morning.

"You have Mr. Lancer's advanced English class first thing." The secretary told me as she handed me my locker combination and my official schedule, which I had received in the mail before school even started. "It's down this hallway dear, last door on the left."

"Thank you." I smiled at her, before rejoining the swell of students.

I found my way to my locker, which was not too far from the office. I unloaded as much of my small load as I could into my locker. Dr. Higgins had given me strict orders; off my feet as much as possible and carry as little as possible. I was happy to abide. I just didn't want to be stuck in bed anymore.

As I turned away from my locker, someone smashed into me. I winced in pain and clutched at the layer of bandages that were still wrapped over my chest and ribs under my shirt.

"Watch where you're going!" I screeched.

"Goth loser." The boy sneered.

I looked up. Way up. I'm considered short by most girls, so standing next to this 6'6ish African-American boy was a bit disconcerting.

But what the hell did he just call me?

"_Excuse_ me? You ran into me!" I planted my hands on my hips and glared upwards.

His dark green eyes glared right back. "Please." He swiped at his shirt. "I don't want Goth on me." He explained.

In a mocking gesture, I wiped at my own clothes. "I don't want asshole on me." I responded.

"You don't want to mess with me, Princess." The boy threatened.

"Trust me when I say I'm nobody's princess."

He opened his mouth to respond when – "What's going on here?"

I looked, on instinct, for a teacher. Instead, it was a boy. And yes, girly mode kicked in when I saw how absolutely adorable he was. Shorter than the African-American boy, but not short, lanky, muscled with messy black hair and to-die-for baby blues. I could have melted. And I would have – had he not continued to talk.

"Some chick messin' with you, Tuck." He teased, nudging the boy who ran into me – Tuck.

"Just some nobody." Tuck told him.

The boy looked down at me like he was looking at a dead bug. I resented the feeling.

"If it looks like a nobody and acts like a nobody, then just ignore it." The boy advised. He rolled his eyes at me. "Don't mess with us, sweetheart. Trust me on this."

I wanted to hit him. But they walked away.

So, okay, it wasn't a horrible encounter. I hadn't been stuffed in a locker or mocked in front of a ton of people, but it still put me in a sour mood for my first English class. The word's _'loser'_ and _'nobody'_ kept swirling in my head. I wasn't insanely popular, no, but they didn't know me and they thought they already had me pegged! It just wasn't fair. And that boy – Tuck – could have just apologized for ramming into me and the whole thing could have been over with.

Ugh.

Boys.

**Well, hope you like. This story isn't developing quite how I thought, but we'll see. I don't own **_**Danny Phantom**_** and I've been toying with a companion story in Danny's POV. Anybody like?**

**~TLL~**


	3. Chapter 3

That afternoon, I met Jazz at the tutoring center she worked out of.

"Nice to see you Sam." She smiled at me, a little too wide, after she excused herself from talking to a small Asian girl.

"You too Jazz." I glanced around the space full of desk and students and tutors. "So, I decided to give this teaching thing a try."

"_Tutoring_." Jazz was quick to correct me. "We try to stay away from the word 'teach' because we don't want to undermine the teacher's authority in the classroom or make the student here feel inadequate by needing extra 'teaching'." She used her fingers to put in quotation marks.

"I decided to give this tutoring thing I try," I rephrased with a roll of my eyes. Not that I thought I'd be very good at it. I had the patience level of an angry bull and my bullshit meter was on permanent 'intolerance' level.

"Excellent." Jazz lead me over to a desk, where she opened the middle drawer and pulled out a few papers. "This is a form that I need you to fill out."

I flipped through it. "It looks like a personality quiz."

Jazz laughed. "Sort of. We want to know your academic strengths and weaknesses, along with your personal ones so that we can pair your strengths to the needs of the students."

It made sense. I guess. The form only took a few minutes, but at the end I checked the 'part time' box. I didn't want my life to get sucked into a vortex of can't-pay-attention and too-stupid-to-function. Jazz frowned at my part time decision, but she could deal with it. She liked helping people. I liked cash. And it was better than being a fry cook at the Nasty Burger.

"Okay." Jazz sighed. "We have no students for you right off the bat, but I will text you when someone needs your assistance."

I shrugged. "All right. See you later." And I walked out.

Damn.

Not that I was excited to be teaching a fourth grader simple multiplication, but Mother had this function I was supposed to be attending tonight and I thought tutoring might help me out of it. Mother had joined this group – Mothers of Amity Park (or M.A.P), and they were holding a Mother/Daughter night.

I drove home, parking my little car in the garage between Mother's showy convertible and her gas-guzzling S.U.V. I slipped into the house, trying to get away unnoticed, but Mother pounced on me the second I walked through the door.

"Sammy!" She looped her arm around my shoulders and I tried not to cringe. I didn't like physical contact. "I found the most wonderful dress for you to wear."

I took a deep breath as Mother steered me toward my room. We differed on tastes. I liked dark colours and unusual patterns. She liked pink and bright and cheerful and hideous. She threw open the door and I approached the bag on my bed warily. Mother stayed in the doorway, hands clasped, watching my reaction. I opened the bag and pulled out a sundress. It was a halter top with a high back to hide the bandages and it was in, what we called, 'compromise colours'. Mother liked pink and yellow. I liked black. Our compromise colours consisted of red, purple, and assorted shades of green. This sundress was a very light purple with a silver band around the waist and silver accents on the halter straps.

"It's lovely," I admitted. And the material was very silky. It was something that I might have picked for myself. I wasn't a girly girl, but I liked hints of femininity, such as my skirts and make-up (which was not tested on animals).

"Wonderful!" Mother clapped. "Now, be ready to go in an hour, dear?"

"All right." I nodded. "And I have a job at the tutoring center now."

"Wonderful!" Mother repeated. "I love that you're finally getting involved."

Yeah. Involved. It had nothing to do with wanting to be out of the house.

(-.-)

So far, I was bored. Mother had kept me glued to her side for the first half an hour of the three hour long event, but now I was on my own. I was slouching in a chair due to the fact that I was still on strict orders from Dr. Higgins to be horizontal as much as possible. I was healing "very well" and was expected to be "mostly recovered" in the next "week or two". I was still on pain meds though and every time the nurse came over to change my bandages, I closed my eyes and looked away. I hadn't looked at my real wounds yet.

"Ladies!" Mrs. Sanchez, the owner of the house who was hosting the M.A.P. event called over the conversation of fifteen women and seventeen daughters. "Dinner is served! Please make your way to the dining room and find your place card."

I stood, rolling my shoulders back in an attempt to crack my back without looking like a lunatic. Then, I followed the trail of women into a dining room that could have easily seated one hundred. Holy. The way these Sanchez's flaunted money was slightly disgusting to me. Mrs. Sanchez was way overdone for the 'little get together' with diamonds dripping from her ears and her fingers and her neck. But I hadn't yet met her.

Five minutes later, I did.

As the newest guest, Mother was on Mrs. Sanchez's right. I sat on Mother's other side and Paullina was on Mrs. Sanchez's other side. She was the Queen Bee I had appraised my very first day at Casper, the girl who ruled the school but was not a cheerleader. She was surprisingly pleasant as she greeted me.

"Oh," she purred in an accent she must have picked up from her father because her mother was as American as you could get, "you're the poor girl who suffered the ghost attack."

"Yes," I replied, "that was me."

"Oh dear. That must have been horrible." She fluttered her eyelashes and bits of powder fell from her lids. "Are you all right?"

I nodded. "Still healing but doing much better. Thank you for asking."

Paullina grinned widely. "Ghosts are very common in Amity," she informed me, as though I had not yet figured it out. "I hope that your encounter didn't frighten you very much."

I pondered this for a moment. Scared? I regarded myself as fearless, and to be honest, the thought of seeing the dragon ghost didn't scare me in the least. I was scared of what ghosts could do to me, yeah, but that's just self-preservation. If I were scared of ghosts then I wouldn't spend as much time as I did, or be as comfortable, around Phantom. Though, Phantom was becoming increasingly human in my eyes, despite the fact that I had only ever seen his feet touch the ground once. He just floated above my balcony as we talked.

"No," I told her, "I'm not frightened."

Paullina switched topics. "Where are you from, Sam?"

"New Orleans."

"Is it beautiful there?" Paullina asked.

"Yes." I responded.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Dinner was served. It was a nice ham and salad dinner. The perfect thing for a hot day during the Indian Summer we were experiencing. While our host and other guests were distracted by the food, I slipped my ham onto Mother's plate, who didn't even notice. She was so involved with Mrs. Sanchez and their conversation on the return of neons to the fashion world.

"No," I told Paullina. "No one ever caught my eye." To be polite I returned the question.

Her eyes lit up, which brought a new level of beauty to her. She was a little overdone with the make-up, fake nails and expensive clothes, but Paullina was beautiful. "Yes! _Danny_," she sighed the name.

"Does he go to Casper?" I continued the conversation as I picked at my potato salad. I would much rather talk about her than me, and she seemed content to do the same.

"Yes," Paullina nodded. "He's in his final year, like me. What grade are you in?" She asked, distracted from the original topic.

"Twelfth."

"Like us!" She cooed. "We have been dating since June." She told me, excited. "He's on the wrestling team – he won the national championships! He beat me old boyfriend, Dash."

I let out a little snigger, despite myself. "Someone's name is Dash?"

"Oh yes," Paullina said, "but he's not very fast – he completely failed at track and field last year. And," she lowered her voice conspiratorially and winked at me, "he's too fast in other places if you know what I mean."

I almost choked on a carrot. Well I wasn't aware of the finer aspects of girl talk but discussing your sex life in front of your mother whilst surrounded by other mothers and girls didn't seem like a good idea. "Oh," I blushed. "That must have been bad for you." I managed.

"It was!" Paullina gasped. "I'm glad you understand."

I nodded.

"But Danny," Paullina pouted, "Danny won't sleep with me."

"Why?" It was just easier to keep her talking, even if I could honestly care less. I don't even know who this Danny kid was.

"He says when it's right he'll know." Paullina rolled her eyes. "Who could be more right than us? We're both beautiful, A-List, rich people. Although, Danny could be better."

"Yeah?"

"He just has to drop that Geek he has as a best friend." Paullina was shredding her ham with her fingers and then poking it between her glossed lips. "I mean, Danny is the popular one, Tucker is where he is because of Danny."

_"Some chick messin' with you, Tuck." _My mind flashed to my earlier encounter with the two boys. While Danny may be a common name, I couldn't imagine Tucker being one. And I never did learn the name of the blue-eyed boy.

"Why's popularity matter so much?" I asked her.

Paullina narrowed her eyes at me. "Popularity is _everything_," she stressed. "Do you think I would be as loved if I were poor and ugly? No. Danny was nobody until last year when he turned gorgeous and his parents stopped being crazy and started being true heroes. Popularity can make or break a person. Shouldn't you know that?"

"Why would I know that?"

Paullina's eyes widened in surprise. "Weren't you popular in New Orleans?"

"No."

Her surprise turned to a glare. "You mean you're a loser!" She let out a loud breath. "If you ever speak to me again, _freak_, I will end you."

(-.-)

"I just don't understand how someone can be that shallow!" I finished my rant about the evening and looked over to Phantom, who was hovering just above the railing of my balcony.

Phantom shrugged. "That's just Paullina. You get used to it, I guess."

"You know her?" I question.

"She used to be in love with me. She wrote Mrs. Phantom on everything and planned our wedding." He let out a small shudder. "I just don't like being stalked."

I opened my mouth to exclaim something totally insensitive and then snapped my jaw shut.

He noticed. "What?"

"It's just," I paused and then plowed on, "you're dead."

"I noticed."

It occurred to me how I kept coming back to the point that he was no longer amongst the living. Maybe I was having more issues with his current state of being that my conscious mind was aware of. "Well," I tucked away my thoughts for later consideration, "you can't marry anyone, unless they were dead too. It just seems kind of illogical to me, for her to love you."

Phantom nodded. "She never really loved me though. She'd have to know me to love me and aside from me saving her a couple of times I never really talked to her."

"Have you ever been in love?" I asked, softly. The impact of him being dead at seventeen really hit me at that moment. There was so much that he would never get to do, so much that was stolen from him.

"No," Phantom admitted. "Have you?"

I shook my head.

"Is it strange," he said, his voice taking on a weird tone, "that of all the supernatural things I've experienced, love still seems like an insane impossibility, some kind of magic?"

Looking at him, and the life that was taken from him, it really wasn't strange at all.

**I don't own **_**Danny Phantom**_**. I really hope you're enjoying the story and I hope I'm doing the characters justice!**

**~TLL~**


	4. Chapter 4

It was midnight Saturday and I was walking. My wounds were feeling much better and I decided to screw what the doctor said. I was tired of being cooped up. Besides, who knew how long the nice weather would last since we were already getting into the later part of September? As I walked and allowed the fresh air to cleanse me, I pulled out the thoughts that I had tucked away earlier that evening.

Was I having problems with Phantom being dead?

On the surface, no. Of course I wouldn't have problems with Phantom being dead. Dead or not he was a teenage boy and he was a human being who wanted to talk to me, who wanted to be my friend. But, thinking deeper, it was a little strange. I was talking to a dead boy, whose living identity I didn't know. All I had was the name of _Danny_ and that he had been dead of three years. That would make him twenty now. And how could I ever really know him, ever _really_ be his friend, if I didn't know these fundamental things about him?

But, I was connecting with him, minor details or no. I had found someone to confide in in Amity – something that I had never really had before. I talked to him and he talked to me in return. But, I couldn't help but think of his family (did they know he was a ghost?) the human life he had left behind (girlfriend? Best friend? He would be twenty years old by now!) and where he went when he wasn't with me (what was the afterlife exactly?).

As I mulled it over in my mind, I realized; all of my insecurities about his current state were about not understanding it. I didn't understand him and I didn't understand ghosts. I liked to understand things. I liked to know about my surroundings. And Phantom was a mystery to me, despite our conversations.

I slipped inside the park gate near the outskirts of town. As I wove through the trees, I vowed to ask Phantom more questions about his personal life. As I knew from one of our first conversations, he didn't like that. But he was understanding. Surely if I explained my problems (which now that I had found a solution weren't really a problem at all), he might be a little more open. After all, thinking back, I had never gotten any personal details from him. He had sat quietly and listened quietly while I talked about me. I felt a little ashamed. Friendship was supposed to be equals. As I walked through the park, I resolved to fix it.

I was wondering if I should turn around when I heard voices. I froze before diving (as quietly as I could) into a nearby bush. I peeked out between the leaves as the two people walked down the path.

I recognized both instantly: Paullina and the blue-eyed boy who had made fun of me along with _Tuck_ that day. It must be Danny. Who else would be holding hands and taking a midnight stroll with Paullina?

"Danny," Paullina's lower lip was poking out, "do you love me?"

Danny's eyes closed and scrunched. "Paullina, we talked about this."

Paullina stopped dead, tearing her hand out of his. "I want you to love me!" She shrieked.

"It doesn't work like that!" Danny snapped in return. "You're sexy and we have fun but I don't think I'll ever love you."

"_Everyone_ loves me." Paullina's expression was dark. "It wouldn't hurt to say it though, would it?"

I almost gagged. She had gone from murderous to sugary sweet in a matter of seconds. I wondered what the real Paullina was like, when she stopped acting for other people.

She was running her hands over his chest now. I saw her hands slip below his jeans. _Shit_. I really hoped something wasn't going to go down in the park with me stuck in this bush. Out of all the things I never wanted to witness in my entire life, this was way up there.

To my surprise, Danny grabbed her arm and forced her away from him. "No." He growled, before turning his back on her. He began to walk away.

"Danny!" Paullina gasped, before racing after him.

Whatever else was said, I never caught it. Still, jerk or not, Danny was an enigma.

(-.-)

Earlier Sunday afternoon, I climbed up onto my roof. The weather was cooling off and I was feeling strange under the unfamiliar weight of a sweater.

"I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy."

I didn't jump as I once might have. "You are not my mother."

Phantom floated up the side of the roof, coming to rest across from where I was leaning against the chimney.

"No," he smirked. "That would be strange."

"Can I talk to you?"

"We are talking."

"Be serious."

"I'm always serious."

"Phantom!"

"Okay, okay, I'm listening." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring intently at me.

I struggled not to blush as he watched my every movement. "I think I have an issue with you being dead."

Hurt flashed across his face and I wanted to slap myself. That was probably not the best way to bring up this conversation.

I tried to backpedal, but he spoke first. "If you want me to go, Sam –"

"No!" I shrieked. "That's not what I want at all."

"Then what do you want?" He was agitated.

Oh no. I'd always had the social graces of a crap-flinging monkey. If I lost his friendship, if I had to go back to being alone, I didn't know if I could handle it. I think I'd miss him too much. "To understand."

His face was guarded. "_Understand_?" He repeated. "What is there to understand?"

"You," I gestured at him. "Your past, your ghost-ness. It's just really strange. Really different and I want to be your friend, Phantom, this isn't changing that. I just …" I repeated my words from before, "I want to understand."

He was quiet for a very long time. I didn't dare say a word as he stared down at his hands and didn't move. It was agonizing but I let him think. Only once did he lift his head and watch me for a few seconds, before going back to study his hands. Finally, his fingers spread wide in a surrendering position and he met my gaze. "Okay."

"Okay?" I repeated.

"But I don't really want to talk much about who I was before," he cocked his head to the side, "it's still difficult to think about. But this is what I will tell you."

I nodded.

"I died three years ago as of May. I had a sister. My real first name is Daniel – Danny – but you already knew that. I'm seventeen years old. I had a best friend that I had known since preschool and I was a troublemaker. If you would have told me then that people now would regard me as a hero I would have laughed in your face." He ended his small speech and I digested every word.

"What about the ghost thing?" I asked.

"What about it?"

"Where do you go when you aren't with me?" I asked.

"I patrol the city. I spend time in the ghost zone."

"The ghost zone?"

"It's where all the ghosts live. There's a portal that connects that world to this one and that's how they get through." Phantom explained.

"What about ghost powers?"

"I can fly. I can shoot ghost rays out of my hands. I have a ghostly wail. I can shoot ice from my eyes. I can go invisible or intangible." He listed.

"It sounds impressive."

Phantom shrugged. "It's really not glamorous."

"Oh," I gasped, afraid that I had offended him once again. "No, of course not."

"Stop it." He ordered suddenly.

"Stop what?"

"You're different now and I don't like it."

"Excuse me?" I huffed. Sam Manson didn't change for anybody.

"Now it's like you feel sorry for me. Or you're afraid I'll disappear in a puff of smoke. I'm here to be your friend. I'm not going anywhere. So go back to asking me stupid questions that might hurt my feelings or whatever you want to talk about."

"Fine." I glared at him. "How did you die?"

Honestly, I didn't expect any sort of an answer. I expected him to deflect or roll his eyes or anything.

"A horrible accident." He said quietly. "In my parents' house. My best friend convinced me to do something – I should have known better – and the next thing I knew there was pain, then I was like this."

"Oh." I breathed. It was hard not to feel for a story like that. His poor friend. How would you ever get over being the cause of your friends death?

"So, Sam," Phantom had a playful smirk on. "Tell me something intensely personal."

I blushed. "What?"

"Well, I've shared something with you," he was full out grinning now, "you must share with me."

I shook my head. "No, you _owe_ me."

"How do I owe you?"

"I'm sorry, but do you not remember how ruined my shirt was from that dragon ghost? I think you saw enough personal."

Phantom snorted, before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, if you want to play I'll-Show-You-Mine-If–You-Show-Me-Yours …"

I scoffed. "You are such a teenage boy."

He smiled wider. "That is such a compliment."

"Only you would take it as such."

"I'm a ghost. Forever seventeen," he teased, and for once I did not find my mind dwelling on his ghost state. I was free to just laugh.

"You poor thing. Forever high school."

"Ugh." Phantom mimed throwing up.

"Not a fan?"

"Finding someone who enjoyed high school is like finding a unicorn." He informed me.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You expect me to believe in ghosts but not in unicorns?"

"No, I fully expect you to believe what you want too, but you've seen a ghost. Have you ever seen a unicorn?"

I rolled my eyes. "How do I know that I'm not just hallucinating you? I am on meds."

He ignored my ludicrous suggestion. "How long are you on the meds for?"

"Being weaned off." I responded. "I'm starting to heal so I need them last."

He studied me. "Are you going to become a junkie?"

"No!"

There was a lull and that's when I asked, "do you want to play a game?"

"Is this like a Saw thing where I end up dead?"

I really didn't know what to say to that so I just let his own words catch up to him.

"Oh, wait!" Phantom's eyes widened. "Never mind. What kind of game?"

"Random questions game."

"Random questions game?" he repeated. "Is it what it sounds like?"

"Yep. Any question. Just ask."

He didn't pause for a minute. "Favourite vegetable?"

"Peas."

"I hate those!" He gestured grandly with his hands. "I can never catch the little buggers when they're on my plate. They just go _everywhere!_" I laughed.

"SAMANTHA!" My mother's voice rang loudly from inside of the house.

"Shit." I coasted down the roof as I called my goodbye to Phantom. "See you later?"

"Sure," he agreed.

When I reached my balcony and looked back, he was already gone from the roof.

"SAMANTHA!" Mother shouted again.

"WHAT?" I yelled back.

"Get ready dear!" She materialized in my doorway.

"Ready for what?" I asked. We had no plans. This was my Sunday. She couldn't take away my weekend.

"We're going out with the Sanchez's." Mother smiled. "They're such a lovely family, aren't they?"

I didn't respond. "Where are we going?"

"Their lake house. It's an end of the summer party – they put it off this year because it was so warm. There will be lots of kids your age." Mother grinned at me. "Perhaps Paullina could introduce you to a nice boy."

Perhaps Paullina would introduce me to the bottom of the lake.

**Okay, so, honestly, am I getting the characters right? Thanks for all the reviews and support! I hope you're enjoyed this story. I don't own **_**Danny Phantom.**_

**~TLL~**


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't usually put AN's at the beginning but please note that the rating has been changed to 'T' for swearing and upcoming themes.**

We arrived at the lake house and Mother immediately pushed me toward my own personal hell. I would have been perfectly fine staying up in the house with the adults, especially in the outfit that Mother had forced me into. I had walked out in my usual outfit when I knew I was going to be out in the sun – big black sun hat and a cape. But no. She pushed and bribed and threatened me into shorts and a green tank top. I had managed to talk my way into a long-sleeved blue shirt in order to hide my bandages (which were just one layer now!).

But I could not stay up in the house. The house was for the adults. Which I took to mean there was booze up there that they didn't want the teens getting into. So, I was pushed off down to the lake where a crowd of teenagers were taking up the expanse of the beach. I tried not to draw attention to myself as I walked slowly down the path. I could practically feel Mother's eyes on me from the house, trying to force me into the knot of girls in bikinis stretched out on beach towels. Okay, one, it wasn't hot enough for that anymore. Two, one of them was Paullina. And though I wasn't scared of her (I could take her in a fight if it came down to it) I still wanted to avoid any conflict.

I went to the edge of the beach where the sand faded into a pile of rocks. I made myself comfortable one of the wider, flatter ones and tried to lose myself in the motion of the water. I mean, it was like, four. I only had to suffer through a BBQ at six and then fireworks at eleven and then Mother talking for an hour or two and then I could go home. Ugh.

I wished Phantom were here. I wished our conversation hadn't been cut off so abruptly. I was right. After hearing some sort of explanation about his life – then and now – I had stopped caring about his differences. Sometimes, that's all it takes. And, since that talk, he had seemed different too. He had seemed more open to just talking and laughing with me.

"_Goth_."

The word came from behind me and I tensed. I knew that voice – had heard it on my first real day at Casper. The African-American boy. Tuck; Tucker.

I turned, very slowly. He was standing behind me staring down at me. "What?" I asked him.

His face was devoid of emotion. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here against my will." I glared. "Will you let me suffer out my sentence in peace?"

He rolled his eyes. "As long as you're suffering."

He then headed toward the group of boys that had gathered to the other side of the girls. Oh well. At least I was alone. I didn't really understand the purpose of him calling attention to himself like that just to mock me a little. But, since when have I pretended to understand human nature? Never.

As I surveyed the other teens (what? People watching is fun) I noticed a bulky Asian boy tear free of the other boys and go running up the path.

"_FENTON!_" The Asian boy shouted.

I squinted up at the other individual as the boy replied, "KWANSTER!" they shared a high five before racing each other down the path. "Kwanster" (that couldn't really be his name could it? It's much more reasonable to assume that the 'ster' was just the other boy being dumb right?) and the boy were close enough that I could see clearly. It was Danny, Paullina's boyfriend.

Danny Fenton. I connected the two last names and gasped. Fenton. As in, Maddie and Jack Fenton the famous ghost hunters? I recalled my last conversation with Paullina. _'Danny was nobody until last year when he turned gorgeous and his parents stopped being crazy and started being true heroes' _she had said. If Danny's parents were, indeed, Maddie and Jack Fenton, my dislike for the boy increased. Irrationally, perhaps, but his parents were hunting Phantom! Though my friend was able to protect himself much better than I ever could, I still felt protective over him.

I watched, now glaring at Danny, as he approached Paullina, an arm slipping around her waist, his lips going to her neck. Whatever spat I had witnessed in the park, they were both over it. She curled around him and he was happy to hold her. But, I was distracted by their smiles and socialization by ablond boy slipping away from the crowd. He was bulky, like the Asian boy that had greeted _Fenton_. I refused to call him Danny. That name would forever equate to Phantom and I would not compare the jerk I had met in one encounter to the friend that I could not get enough of.

The blond boy was mere feet away from me, but seemingly oblivious. His face transformed from a blank slate to one of anger as he snapped his arm back and drove his fist into an unsuspected rock. I waited for his face to contort in pain, but his jaw remained set and his eyes just blazed with fury.

As he readied himself for another punch, I spoke. "I don't think that's a good idea." I couldn't stand to watch anyone hurt themselves.

Distracted, his arm fell to his side, blood dripping from his knuckles. "Why do you care?"

I pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to protect myself from the way he gazed at me. It was not perverted but it was a look that I would liken to Paullina. "It's painful to watch." I spoke honestly.

The boy brought his knuckles up to his face, surveying the damage he had done to his hand. "I don't even feel it." He admitted.

"Would you like to talk about it?" I offered. Inside, I was quivering. A second friend? Might it be possible? All my life, I had been alone. And now, I had a friend and was having a conversation with a boy who seemed perfectly nice. Of course, appearances could be deceiving, but I was holding back on passing judgment.

The boy glanced over his shoulder to the group of laughing people who hadn't even noticed him leave their midst. He looked back at me and dropped onto the sand with a loud thud. "Some friends." He hissed, jerking a thumb toward the group.

"I'm Sam." I said, unable to think of anything else.

He sighed. "Dash." He introduced himself.

Dash … Why did that name sound so familiar? I cast my mind about and came, again, to Paullina. This was her ex-boyfriend. I think. "You're Paullina's ex?" I gasped.

He nodded and his face tightened. "Ex." He whispered to himself more than me. "Ex!" He growled angry. "How dare she call me ex?!" He vented. "How dare I be exiled and ignored and forgotten by her because of _him_! How could she do this to me!?" He was staring into my eyes now and I saw the raw extent of his emotional pain over losing Paullina. "I _loved_ her. I was _there_ for her. And I get thrown away like trash because she thinks someone is cuter and more popular and richer. He can never love her like I love her!" His fists were burrowed in the sand and he looked as though he wanted to drown Fenton.

"I'm so sorry you lost her," I said, because it seemed like the right thing to do. Whatever I thought of Paullina was nothing to how I thought of her now. The anguish in Dash's voice told me that he truly loved Paullina, and she had been arrogant enough to toss him to the side! If someone _ever_ loved me like Dash seemed to love her I wouldn't be able to stand to let him go.

"I didn't _lose_ her!" Dash sneered. "She was stolen from me. Stolen by Fent-Loser who she made fun of up until last May." Tears were pooling in his eyes. "If I had noticed then how she was starting to look at him things would be so different. I knew he had always looked at her that way, but I had never thought of him as a threat because he was so much less than me. He didn't have the looks, the money, the popularity. But then he did. He had it all." Dash's fingers spread and he winced from the pain radiating from his hand. "And what do I get left with? I'm an afterthought to her now. I'm a hello in the hallway, a nameless player on the football field. I'm a mercy fuck because Fent-Nerd is too much of a pussy to hold her like she deserves to be fucking held!"

I didn't know what to say; what to do. Sitting here in front of me was proof of an unconditional love that I had never imagined existed. I slid off of my rock, coming to rest next to him in the same. I laid my hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry to hear that Dash," I murmured. "But if she keeps coming back, maybe she does love you." I offered the only words I could, words of hope that had been repeated over and over in the romance books I read, "maybe she is scared of how much she loves you. Maybe she thinks she isn't enough. But, if it's meant to be, it will." I tried to smile at him.

"Oh my god!" The voice was nasally. "Paullina! Look at this! I never thought I would see the day Dash Baxter was seen with a loser!" The speaker was a blonde girl who didn't quite fill out her bikini properly. But her call had brought the group to migrate closer to where Dash and I were sitting.

I scrambled to my feet, but Dash remained where he was; his face buried in his sandy hands. I wanted to run, but I had nowhere to flee to. I felt like a rabbit thrown into a den of wolves as Paullina sashayed toward me and her ex-boyfriend. Danny was a mere step behind her, Tucker next to him.

"Well, well," Paullina's accent became more pronounced as her disdain grew. "How the might have fallen." She tapped a finger on the back of Dash's neck and I noticed how he tensed, eagerly anticipating another touch. But Paullina was done with him. Her big eyes had latched onto me. "And you," she purred, almost seductive, playing for her captivated audience, "I said I never wanted to see you again."

"Actually," even as I opened my mouth, I was already kicking myself, "you said you never wanted to speak to me again."

Her eyes narrowed as she stepped away from Dash, her stance almost feline. "You dare speak back to me!" She sounded like a dignified mother scolding her insolent child. But I was not hers to scold.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. I dare."

Her mouth twisted; her face transformed into a grimace. But, I realized with envy, she was still beautiful. "Bitch!" she spat.

Then she lunged. I couldn't dodge her in time. She had landed on me, her legs straddling my waist, her weight going forward onto my bandages. I winced in pain as she brought her flat palm onto my cheek. My flesh stung with the humiliation of the slap and I brought my own hand up to her face. She pushed my arm away but my nails still caught her bicep, scratching at her flesh. Paullina overreacted to wound, screeching with tear filled eyes. She darted away from me, into the embrace of Fenton.

His eyes met mine and my entire body went cold. "Don't you dare touch her again," he threatened. "or else."

**Can anyone think of a better summary for this fic? I don't like the one I have now but I can't think of anything. Thanks for the help! I don't own **_**Danny Phantom**_**.**

**~TLL~**


	6. Chapter 6

After Fenton's threat he steered the sobbing Paullina away from me. The rest of the crowd following them. I heard several moans about the chick fight not lasting longer and sympathies from some of the girls about how I never should have treated Paullina that way. I watched them move off, adrenaline still pumping through my system. When they were far enough away that I was feeling myself begin to calm down, I turned to face Dash.

"I'm sorry that – " I began my apology for Paullina's attitude, that he was made fun of for us being together, but he wasn't there to hear it. There was a dent in the sand where he had been but he wasn't there. My heart dropped a little. I was so sure I was going to have someone else in Amity to talk too and it was ruined.

I kicked the sand toward the group of teenagers. I didn't want to be here. Looking up the path toward the house I realized, I didn't _have_ to be here. Without notifying my mother, I hiked up the path and headed for the road. The lake was far from my house but you know what? It was worth the walk.

(-.-)

I arrived home five hours later. I was out of breath and slightly sweaty. My muscles were burning and I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I stumbled into my room and collapsed on my bed. All I heard was my breathing, loud in my ears, before I collapsed into sleep.

(-.-)

"SAM!"

My eyes burst open. The voice was roaring loud in my ears. Phantom was looming over me, his hand on my shoulders. The touch was freezing, like ice seeping into my veins.

"What?" I groaned. The sleep was still fogging my brain and my limbs were weighted into the bed with exhaustion.

His eyes were wider than I had ever seen them, the green almost glowing in the dark. "Blood." He stuttered.

"What?"

"Your shirt." He released me, as though he just realized he was touching me.

I sat up, reaching for my bedside lamp. Once the light flooded my room and I looked down at my torso, I gasped. The walk home must have reopened my wounds. Disregarding Phantom's presence, I pulled up my shirt to look down at the bandages. Some of the bandages had either fallen or been sweated away because there were patches of pale skin covered in raw, open wounds, some still dripping blood. "I'm going to be sick." I managed before rolling onto my floor and clawing for my garbage can. I can handle blood, any kind of gore, whatever. I am not squeamish. Until it comes to my own wounds.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" Phantom asked.

"Bathroom." I gasped, gesturing toward my private bath. My head was still hanging in my garbage can and I didn't take the time to wonder what Phantom was doing.

He returned moments later. I felt him standing over me but I didn't move. He sighed, and I felt his touch on me again. One hand was on my arm, the other around my waist to guide me to standing. The touch was deliciously cold and the temperature made me calm down and focus.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he sat me on my bed, the first aid kit by my legs.

"Taking care of you." Phantom's lips were pursed tightly. Before he even reached for the kit, he handed me a wet face cloth for me to use for places where I may have gotten puke. I felt embarrassed as I ran the cloth over my face and arms and chest. He didn't seem to register my self-consciousness as he was preoccupied with going through the first aid kit.

"Er," he said when he faced me, "do you mind …" he gestured to my shirt and I realized this must be just as awkward for him as it was for me.

I pulled at my shirt and teased, "it's not like you haven't seen it before."

Phantom snickered as his cold fingers pulled away the remains of my original bandages. "I'm sorry I let this happen to you," he whispered.

"Not your fault." I gritted my teeth as he tightened the bandages around my upper body. _This wasn't hurting. This wasn't hurting. This wasn't hurting._

"Better?"

I looked down at the bandages, which he had done two layers of. _Sigh_. I had been so happy to be down to one layer and almost healed. I had been so close. I should have just gotten Mother to drive me home. But no. I have to be stubborn and independent.

"Thanks." I replied.

"Don't ever do whatever you did again." Phantom's gaze had turned into a half-glare.

"Aww," I mock pouted at him. "Did I scare the big bad Phantom?"

He rolled his eyes. "No one scares me. I scare others."

"You don't scare me." I crossed my arms, trying to look defiant. It probably wasn't working too well. I was all of 5'3 and 100 pounds soaking wet. He was probably about, minimum, 5'9 and, adding in muscle weight, almost 200 pounds perfectly dry. I could not imagine any circumstances in which I could ever intimidate him. And that wasn't even counting his ghost powers.

"Really?" Phantom leaned closer to me. Yeah, intimidation suited him so much better.

I nodded.

Phantom pulled back, a smirk on his face. "Challenge accepted."

"Wait! What?" I blurted.

Phantom grinned. "Scare challenge accepted."

Shit. No, no. This probably wouldn't end well for me.

"Now," Phantom continued. "I do have somewhere I need to be. But, if you want, I'll come back later."

"Of course you should come back later." I joked, "a doctor must check up on his patients."

Phantom chuckled. "If I were patients I would run away screaming."

"Duly noted."

"See you, Sam."

"See you, Phantom."

With that, he turned invisible and was gone. I could point to the exact moment he left because the room went to its normal temperature instead of holding onto the weird chill that belonged to Phantom.

(-.-)

I woke to my alarm. With a pain of regret, I realized that I must have been asleep when Phantom came back. With a shrug, I pulled myself to a standing position. My muscles screeched at the attempt. I padded into the bathroom and, shrugging off my shirt, checked the bandages. There was no visible blood, but when I peeled them off to rewrap them like Dr. Higgins nurse had shown me on her last day, the bottom layer was specked with blood. I made myself study the wounds, which seemed to have scabbed over again.

I slipped into Casper High. I was mostly ignored by the student body. I wasn't enough of a loser to be bullied but I was invisible enough that I wasn't worth talking too. As the bell rang, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I checked the message as I weaved through the mob of student.

_Can you tutor my brother in Advanced Math after school on Mondays and Thursdays? – Jazz_

I quickly typed out a reply._ Sure. I'll be at the tutoring center right after school_.

I was meters away from the classroom door but so intent on my phone that I didn't see the foot coming out to trip me until I had already fallen over it. I face planted, my phone spinning out of my hand and my text book crushed underneath me. I grabbed at my phone and rolled onto my butt as I faced my tormentors. Fenton and Tuck.

"Have a nice trip." Tucker sneered.

"See you next fall!" Fenton added. And they laughed like they were the funniest people to ever walk the earth.

I rolled my eyes at their juvenile jokes and stood up. I darted into the classroom door before they could say another word. Or before I said anything I would ultimately regret.

(-.-)

I drummed my fingers on the desk at the tutoring center as Jazz assured me, for the fourteenth time, that he brother would be here in just another minute.

"Seriously, he's in his own time zone." Jazz sounded as exasperated with her brother's lack of punctuality as I felt. "Never rely on Danny to be on time."

I froze at the name. How many Danny's could there be in Amity? Not that minute. "Jazz," I asked slowly, realizing I had never learned her last name, "what's your full name?"

"Jasmine Madeline Fenton." She replied, "why?"

"Uh, just wondering." Inside, I was cringing. Out of all the people in Amity, all the high school boys who needed help with Advanced Math, the one I was destined to help was Danny Fenton. The universe must really hate me.

"Do you know him?" Jazz asked. "You're in the same grade."

"I may have seen him around," I said vaguely. I liked Jazz. I didn't understand how the same parents who produced someone like Jazz (who, although she could be annoying and overly cheery sometimes was an all-around sweet, motivated girl) could produce the arrogant, mean Fenton.

"I'm here Jazz!" Speak of the devil, he burst through the door, panting slightly. "Tucker and I got wrapped up in our … stuff."

Yeah, my observation that he was an enigma was still standing. Although, I could care less about the mystery of his life.

"Danny, this is your tutor, Sam."

His eyes locked on mine and his blue eyes turned to ice. "Hello," he greeted stiffly.

"Hi," I tried to sound overly pleasant. I wanted Jazz to think that I was totally capable of dealing with people and I didn't want to give him a reason to verbally attack me.

"I will leave you two to it," Jazz said. "My four o'clock student is here."

She left us and I gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk. "What do you need help with?"

I swallowed as he poured his body into the chair that seemed way too small for his frame.

"My class is working on quadratic equations." He replied, stiffly. "But I don't suppose you know what you're talking about."

"Well, apparently you're brain dead when it comes to math." I snapped back.

"I don't need math." Fenton growled.

"You need two math credits to graduate." I looked over his grade sheet that he'd had to hand to me as part of his tutoring. "And, thus far, you have none. Planning on a career as a drop-out."

"Don't judge me."

"Isn't that a bit hypocritical considering that's all you do to me?" I purposely made my voice sweet. Without giving him a chance to answer, I tried to plow on ahead to the lesson. "Quadratic equations are in chapter nine." I pointed to the textbook that sat on the desk.

"Listen, Goth freak, I want to be here with you even less than you want to be here with me."

"Doubt it," I muttered under my breath.

"But I need to graduate. And I need you to help me do it." He took a deep breath and his next words looked like they were physically paining him. "So, while we're in here, can we call a truce?"

"Or you leave me alone all together." I huffed. He didn't look overly enthused about my suggestion so I took his first offer. "Fine. A truce while we're in here."

He relaxed into the chair, no longer on the defensive. He didn't look overly interested in learning though, which was going to be a major problem.

"Chapter nine," I pushed.

Fenton dragged the book closer to him and took a long time to get to chapter nine. We wasted fifteen minutes as he flipped each individual page.

Finally, the book was on the right page. "Look," he sounded triumphant. "Chapter nine."

Careful not to bring about his temper, I kept my next thought to myself: _at least we know he can read._

**Huzzah! New chapter. Aww, gotta love Fenton being an A-hole. I know a lot of people are confused about this and thinking he has multiple personality disorder or Phantom and Fenton are separate but … all shall be revealed in time. I don't own **_**Danny Phantom.**_

_**~TLL~**_


	7. Chapter 7

**To the guest reviewer 'DXS4ever' would you please tell me your theory as to why Danny is an a-hole half the time? I'm curious! Now, own with the story!**

"Scariest animal?"

Phantom crinkled his brow in thought. "I am going to go with seagulls." He said finally.

I snorted. "Seagulls are scary?"

He looked me dead in the eye." Seagulls. Are. Terrifying.

"Unlike you." I stuck out my tongue. He hadn't made good on scaring me yet.

"You joke now," he pointed a finger at me, "but when you are getting attacked by a mob of vicious seagulls, I will not be the one helping you."

I was still laughing. "Who gets attacked by seagulls?"

He looked wounded, which pushed me to the realization. "You?" I gasped, cracking up all over again. "You were attacked by seagulls?"

"I was five and they wanted my French fries!" Phantom pouted.

I tilted my head to the side. "Were you one of those whiny children?"

"What? No." Phantom shook his head. "My sister was a whiny child."

"Your sister is probably the nicest human being in the world."

Phantom laughed. "You wouldn't say that after spending five minutes with her."

"I doubt it."

"Curling or hockey?"

"Hockey." I answered immediately. "I never understood curling what with the rings and brooms and ice and yeah. Dream job?"

"If I were alive I would totally be astronaut." He confided. "I've thought about visiting space now but I have no idea if my new form can exist outside of Earth and I'm too chicken to test it out."

"Makes sense." I leaned back on the roof, gazing up at the blue sky. "Worst thing you've ever witnessed?"

"My best friend at a buffet." Phantom answered quickly. "It was … gross."

"Was this the same friend who was there when you … died?" I said the word awkwardly. Every time the subject was brought up between us, we had different reactions.

"Yeah. That was him." Phantom stretched out on thin air. "You may not have noticed this, Sam, but when I was alive, I only had one friend."

"Were you a loser?" I teased.

"Unfortunately. I became very good friends with the inside of my locker." Phantom rolled his eyes.

"So I guess that's two friends!" I grinned at him.

He didn't seem to find me as funny as I found myself. "Har har har."

"You laugh like a pirate," I snickered.

"You laugh like a labradoodle." Phantom returned, crossing his arms.

"How the heck do you laugh like a labradoodle?" I sat up a little to better look him in the eye.

"Like you." He stuck his tongue out at me.

"You're so immature."

_"You're so immature_." He mimicked.

"I don't sound like that."

"No, because you sound like a labradoodle."

"Oh my god." I closed my eyes and shook my head. I swear, he could be like an annoying little brother sometimes.

I felt Phantom float down toward me. "Hey, Sam," he hummed.

"What?" I snapped.

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with sounding like a labradoodle."

I looked up at him suspiciously. "No?" I questioned.

Phantom shook his head. "Looking like one, yeah, but not sounding like one."

"Are you saying I look like a labradoodle?" I took extreme offense to that, considering I had never actually seen a labradoodle.

Phantom looked at me seriously, a funny expression on his face. "No."

"Then what do I look like?" I challenged, planting my hands on my hips.

He stared at me for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time. I began to fidget under his gaze. Finally, he gave me my answer. "A model."

I snorted. It was such an unexpected comment. "A model?" I pushed one cheek up and one cheek down to make a ridiculous face. "I'm camera ready!"

Phantom didn't laugh like I thought he might. "I'm serious, Sam. You could be a model."

"And, let me guess, you're secretly the Queen, right?" I responded sarcastically.

"I'm serious." He repeated.

I sighed. If it was any other boy saying this to me, I might suspect they were only trying to get into my pants. "I couldn't be a model."

"Why not?"

"Let's start with the obvious, shall we? I'm not pretty."

"You are pretty." Phantom argued.

"You are such a sweet boy," I cooed, "to lie to me like that."

He pouted, which, honestly, made him look about twelve. "I'm not a liar."

"Phantom, I've lived with this face for seventeen years. I'm not overly ugly but," I shrugged, "I'm no Paullina."

"What's Paullina got to do with anything?"

"It's a conversation about beauty and Paullina is beautiful. I thought it was appropriate."

"Paullina is okay."

"That is taking the lie too far." I smiled, but it felt a little sad to me. "I'm okay with my looks. I'm never going to be a great beauty but I don't need to be." I didn't want to tell him how it had taken me years to come to terms with the fact that I wasn't going to ever be one of the beautiful people. Despite how I embraced myself now, up until I was fifteen I would look in the mirror every morning, praying that my face had changed overnight. That somehow, through sleep, I had become someone else entirely.

"I think that you are much more than you think you are."

I heaved a sigh. I was ready for this heavy conversation to be over. "Okay," I agreed vaguely. "Least favourite movie genre?"

"Rom-com." He answered automatically. "Biggest regret?"

"In New Orleans, there was this kid. He was bullied endlessly. One day, I stayed after bell to finish something in the library. On my way out, I saw him in a bully circle and he broke free. I passed him a few streets down. He was curled up in a ball next to a dumpster and he was covered in bruises. I wish I had sat down next to him and at least tried to talk to him. Because the next day he committed suicide."

"Oh, God." Phantom's voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

I brushed off his apology. "It's not you who should be apologizing. Especially to me. It's me and those bullies and a hundred other people who saw his pain and ignored it. We should be apologizing to him, his parents, everyone who was hurt by his death."

Phantom stayed silent.

"Cat or dog?"

"Dog. The fruitloop owns a cat."

"Who's the fruitloop?"

Phantom winked at me. "That's a story for a different time."

(-.-)

"So I'm getting paid to watch you draw unicorns."

Honestly, I was giving up on trying to make Fenton do schoolwork. He had concentrated on his text book for a few moments before turning the numbers and symbols in the equation into a very detailed unicorn. And by detailed, I mean he put a penis on it. Why were teenaged boys obsessed with drawing penises? Like really, they all had one. And girls know what they look like too. We don't need to see them everywhere too.

"Would you rather be teaching me something?"

"You mean doing what I'm supposed to be doing?"

"Would you lighten up?" Fenton rolled his eyes. "God, you are such a killjoy."

"I am not a killjoy."

"Yes you are," he argued, "you're like my sister."

"I am not like Jazz." It's not that I had anything against Jazz, it's just that her dominant traits were: being cheerful (nope), being motivated (trust me, if I could be in bed right now, I would be), being chatty (Phantom didn't count) and being good with people (I want to stab Fenton).

"Uh, yeah. You are." Fenton rolled his eyes. "You _never_ want to have fun."

"Are you saying you want to have fun with me?" I questioned slowly, wondering what he meant by that.

"No," Fenton looked disgusted so I was automatically certain his thoughts had been perverted. "I am just saying that if you could get off of this math thing that this tutoring would be a lot easier."

"How would you learn anything?"

"You could just give me the answers," He grinned hopefully, expectantly, and nudged the quadratic-equation-penis-unicorn paper toward me.

I leaned away from it. "Or you could learn something."

"I am not a learning person." Fenton's eyes narrowed. "And I don't think you're a teaching person."

"I'm not a lot of things." I responded. "But, one thing I am not is a person failing math."

He glared.

"But, if you're not into the graduating high school thing, I hear the Nasty Burger is looking for a burger-flipper." I gestured out the window where the Nasty Burger sign was peeking above the trees.

"I am not going to work at the Nasty Burger." Fenton crossed his arms.

"Then let me teach you the ways of math."

"Math sucks," he muttered under his breath.

"Nasty Burger." I jerked my thumb at the sign again.

Fenton's eyes darted out the window and back to me. Putting his hands on the textbook he moved it between us. In the most sarcastic, unemotional voice possible, he droned, "Teach me oh master."

It was a start.

(-.-)

I stared at the page in front of me. It was a list of activities available for Casper High students. Students were required to participate in at least three of the activities. None of which seemed fun for me. I am not a sporty person, nor an overly artistic person. There wasn't a lot of in between. For example, I didn't want to act and it was simply out of my abilities to create a set for the school play. And even if I wanted/could do a sport, my body simply wasn't ready. And I couldn't do chess club or anything.

So that leaves me with the poetry society, the yearbook club and school newspaper. None of which sounded particularly interesting (well, except for poetry but that all depended on the type of poetry we read because while I found older poetry more lyrical I liked the more modern day better. Except for Poe. Edgar Allan Poe would forever be my idol).

I scrawled my name at the top of the sheet and put check marks beside the activities I would like to participate in. Or rather, the only options that were left for me because there was nothing else I could participate in. It was times like this where I missed my old boarding school where sports teams were mostly ignored because of the pressure put on academics.

"Pass in your sheets on your way out." The teacher called as the bell rang.

I stood up, taking extra time to secure my messenger bag on my shoulder. Why most students ran each other over and tried to all fit out the door at the same time was beyond me. I mean, the busses leave ten minutes from now and if you drove then why the rush? Honestly. After the crowd had thinned, I passed in my sheet and walked out into the emptying hallway.

I ducked my head as I passed Paullina's crowd. She was leaning against Fenton, who was leaning against the locker. He had one leg pulled up underneath him and an arm around her shoulders. Kwan was there, as was the girl who had brought attention to Dash and I at the Sanchez's party. As for Dash, I had assumed he would be there, considering his desperation to be near Paullina, but he wasn't anywhere in sight.

Paullina's lips twisted into a sneer as she noticed me. "Loser." She hissed. The rest of the crowd picked up her chant.

_"Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser."_

Their chants followed her down the hallway. Even Fenton, who I thought might not be as mean as the others now that we are being forced to spend time with together, had a cruel smirk on his face and an insult on his lips.

I ducked outside and darted toward my car. No, I didn't care what they thought. Of course I didn't. But that didn't mean that their words were any less painful to here.

**Aw. Poor Sam … At least she's got Phantom to talk too! I want to pump them full of fluffy goodness already! :P Ooh, and poor Sam has to get involved with something more than tutoring. How much more does she have to go through? R&R please? It's my birthday? **

**~TLL~**


	8. Chapter 8

"You don't look very happy today."

"You look unnaturally happy today."

"I'm not allowed to be happy?"

"Sam, you're a Goth."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Goths generally aren't happy."

"Being a Goth is about expressing yourself. Today, I want to express myself with a smile."

"Why?"

"Why are you unhappy first?"

Phantom reached up a gloved hand a rubbed his forehead. "It's just been difficult lately," he said. "I don't know if you've noticed but ghost attacks have become more frequent which means more work for me."

"Poor thing." I rolled my eyes, "God forbid you move your lazy ass and actually get some kind of work done."

Phantom half smirked. "I wish I had time to be lazy."

"Uh-huh," an idea was forming in my mind. A far-fetched idea that Phantom probably wouldn't even go for, but an idea nonetheless.

"Your turn." Phantom pulled himself away from his thoughts to look at me. "Why is my little Goth so happy?"

"One," I began, "I don't belong to anybody," this made him smile in a way I didn't quite understand, "two, Halloween is in four days."

"Halloween?" He repeated blandly.

"Halloween!" I tossed my arms grandly. "You know, that awesome holiday where everyone dresses up and there's candy and haunted houses and –" I shook my finger at him, "don't you dare try to scare me on Halloween."

"Isn't that what Halloween is for?" His brow creased in wonder. "Scaring, I mean?"

"I don't want you to mess up my favourite day of the year with some kind of half-assed scare attempt."

"Half-assed?" Phantom scoffed, "like I would do anything half-assed."

I leaned close to him, trying to intimidate him. But, like I had noticed before, it was nearly impossible for someone like me (someone who had been compared to a doll) to intimidate someone like him. "Don't you dare," I tried threatening anyway.

"All right, all right," Phantom sighed, "I won't ruin your day."

"Great!" I grinned again, and he seemed a little frightened of it. Honestly, was I _that_ unpleasant most of the time?

"What are you doing for Halloween?" He asked, "and don't say trick-or-treating."

"Why?" I challenged, "Is it uncool for a seventeen-year-old?"

"It's weird."

"Well, good thing that's not what we're doing."

"Where did this 'we' come from?"

"Well," I dug the toe of my boot into the wood of my balcony. I glanced down, a little bashful, "I was hoping that you would join in on my Halloween fun!"

Phantom chuckled. "Okay."

"Really?" I brought my eyes up to meet his. "You want to hang out with me on Halloween?"

He nodded.

I was about to pull him into a hug when I realized we had one more thing to clarify, "You realize this means you show up at six and I am in control of the entire evening?"

"Okay," Phantom didn't hesitate. "Six o'clock. You're in control. Got it." He smiled.

I grabbed him in a hug. Because of his floating angle, when I wrapped my arms around him, he came crashing down into the railing. I heard his laugh and felt it vibrate against my cheek that was on his chest. He wrapped his cold arms around the top of my head and neck.

"You really do love Halloween don't you?"

I nodded, not quite ready to let go of the hug. He was content to continue to lean on me. "Love, love, love!"

"This is funny." Phantom observed. "I've never seen you so excited over something."

"Well," I knew this was the moment to pull away, so I did, feeling the cool imprint of his body still along mine, "I don't usually get this excited over things."

"What do you get excited over?"

"Uhm, Halloween. My birthday. Roses. Real storms. The perfect cup of coffee." I volleyed back a question of my own, "most embarrassing Halloween costume?"

"The ass end of a horse," Phantom rolled his eyes.

"Let me guess, your friend was the front end?"

"Wow, you are such a good guesser," he widened his eyes in mock surprise.

"You know," I crossed my arms and leaned back, pretending to study him, "you look like the ass end of a horse."

"Excuse me?" He spluttered.

"I'm just saying."

"I'm going to get my revenge," he swore.

"You don't get to get revenge!" I exclaimed, "You called me a labradoodle!"

"With a model follow up!" Phantom pouted. "Compliment me."

"What?"

"Compliment me," he demanded.

"On what?" I laughed.

"Anything," his pout deepened, "is there nothing you can compliment me on?"

"Uhhh," I pretended to think, watching him squirm. "I guess you're mildly attractive."

"Mildly attractive!"

I squinted. "In the right light. Maybe."

"You're being mean."

I hopped up on the railing which he was still sitting on. "You want a compliment?"

He nodded.

"You're a really amazing human being."

"Thank you." He beamed at me and I found myself wanting to see him smile like that – huge with no inhibitions – again. "What's your biggest secret?"

"I don't know if I know you well enough for that." I stalled. I knew that I wasn't comfortable telling him. As close as Phantom and I had become, were continuing to become, no one knew that. No one but me. And I wanted to keep it that way. Because the moment I told Phantom, his entire outlook on me could change, and not for the better. I didn't want to do anything that would shatter what we had now.

"Don't you trust me?"

"We've known each other for almost two months. That's not really a long period of time."

"It's felt like forever."

"I know," I was in total agreement with that. I could remember life before Phantom in startling detail, but that seemed so far off, "but it's not that long."

"Okay, well, let's make a deal."

I looked up at him, curious, "What kind of a deal?" I was wary.

"If we are still friends – friends like this, close, easy to talk to, comfortable with each other – on March first, we tell each other our biggest secrets."

March. It seemed so long away. But it wasn't. Mentally, I counted the months. Not including October, there was November, December, January, February and then the beginning of March. Was four months enough to know if I could really trust Phantom? Of course, we were already close but we were only mid-level close. To me, there were three levels of closeness; surface close, mid-level close, and deep close. We knew more about each other than the favourite colour and favourite food deal, but I had not begun to putting my deepest thoughts, secrets, and desires in his hands. Discretely, I looked down at the white gloves. Were those gloved hands able to handle all that came with being deep close friends with me?

"Phantom," he had stayed silent, letting me think it through, "March first." I held out my hand and he took it.

"March first."

(-.-)

Halloween was the time that I truly appreciated being a 'rich kid'. I could go out and buy one of those expensive, detailed costumes for my yearly ritual. This year, I had bought two costumes – one for me and one for Phantom. I didn't know how he would feel about the costume but he had agreed that I was in charge for the evening.

Excited, I spread the costumes out on my bed. Phantom wasn't supposed to be here for another hour and a half, but I couldn't keep my eyes off of my costume this year. It was one of my favourites. I loved Halloween because I could don a costume and a mask and become someone else for the night. Tonight, I was a Greek goddess. My dress was long, with gold threads around my waist and breasts and golden spaghetti straps. The material was white and blue, the blue began around my ankles, fading up my legs. There was also blue along the long sleeves, which was attached to the gold straps, leaving slits along my biceps. There was a golden tiara for my brow and a gold mask to go around my eyes. I didn't want to be recognized tonight.

Phantom's costume also hid his identity. He was going to be a ninja. The costume was all black, save for a red sash around his waist and a red dragon over his heart. The thin black material could be pulled over to hide his face except for his eyes. There was also a small plastic sword.

I couldn't keep from clapping my hands together in glee. I was just so excited! I hurriedly scarfed down dinner – Caesar salad and a tofu burger before returning to my room. It was nearly six!

Just as the thought flitted across my mind, there came a knock at my balcony doors.

"Enter!" I sang.

He strode through the door.

"Do you enjoy flaunting your ghost powers?" I asked.

"If you got it, flaunt it!" He held up his arms as though to accentuate his bicep muscles.

"You have nothing to flaunt."

"Ouch," Phantom held a hand over his heart. "I'm hurt."

"Get over it!" I grinned wickedly. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"What's the plan?"

"You'll find out. For now, get dressed."

"Dressed?" Phantom questioned.

"You promised that it was my night."

"I know, I know. What am I wearing?"

I reached for the bag that contained his costume. "Here," I tossed it at him but didn't wait for him to open it. "I'm going to change in the bathroom."

"One question first!" Phantom was staring at me, hands still holding the unopened bag, "do we match?"

"That would be tacky," I informed him. _As well as coupley_, my mind added. Which was not how I wanted to be seen with Phantom.

I quickly wriggled into my dress and gold flats. The material was silky and hugged me beautifully. Yet another pro of getting one of the expensive costumes, as well as the fact that there was none of that uncomfortable chaffing and itching that was associated with mass produced store bought costumes. I curled my hair and then picked up the gold dust. I massaged it into my hair until I could pick out the glittering gold highlights. I didn't do much for make-up. A splash of blue on my eyelids, mascara and a bit of lipstick. Then, I secured the mask out of my face. I checked myself out in the mirror. Oh yeah, I looked good.

"Phantom," I called, my hand on the doorknob, "Are you decent?"

"If you mean clothed then yes," he replied.

I opened the bathroom door. "Do you like?" I asked, a gave a small twirl.

"Definitely."

I took a moment to appraise him. The costume was tight, hiding away all skin but his eyes. The sword was cinched to his hip. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"Thanks," I think he smiled, I couldn't tell behind the mask. Despite the mask though, I did catch it.

"Did you just check me out?"

"Wha – No! I mean," he forced out a few more denials before giving up, "I'm a teenage boy. If there's a hot girl in the room I am going to stare."

"Then get your eyes ready," I commented.

"Huh?" He raised his eyebrows. "Sam, where are we going tonight?"

"Paullina's Halloween party."

"You want to go to Paullina's Halloween party?" He gasped. "Why? You hate Paullina?"

"I don't hate Paullina," I corrected him, "hating would mean I acknowledge her and spend energy on her."

"Either way, why are we going?"

"Because this is what I do every Halloween," I explained, "I go to the biggest Halloween party as someone who is totally not me and see if all the people that pick on me and make fun of me befriend me for a night."

"What's the point of that?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. It's probably some deep, psychological, self-esteem reason. Still, we're going."

"I know. It's you're night."

I smiled. "Right. Well, let's go."

"We're driving?"

"That was the idea," I turned back to him.

"How about," Phantom suggested, "we fly instead."

**Yay, events. R&R please, I love the great feedback I've been getting from these amazing reviewers! I don't own **_**Danny Phantom**_

**~TLL~**


	9. Chapter 9

"Fly?" I stuttered.

"Yeah," Phantom nodded. He started to laugh, "What's that look for?"

"I … Fly?" I repeated.

"Yes," he was still laughing at me, "Sam, ghost powers?"

"How does the flying thing work?" I asked cautiously.

"I dunno. We just kind of take off and go." He made a wave motion with his hands.

"Uhm," Phantom had skipped the part I had been wondering about but that seemed rather obvious now. He would have to hold me while we went, "What about my make-up and hair and stuff?"

"I can go intangible," Phantom assured me, "the wind won't even touch you."

"Why don't you want to drive?"

"Ghosts don't go in cars." He crossed his arms defiantly.

"But you know that you'll have to bring me home though?" I continued, "what if something happens where you have to go and I can't get home?"

Phantom cocked his head, considering. "It won't happen."

"I'm not sure about this?"

"Are you scared?" Phantom smirked, "have I succeeded in scaring you?"

"No! I'm not scared."

"Then what's the problem?"

There was no way I was getting out flying with him. I stepped closer. "You're cold."

"Is that going to be a problem?"

No, I would enjoy becoming a human Popsicle. It was one of my bigger goals in life. "No," I shook my head.

In a flash, Phantom reached out and grabbed me, pulling me to him bridal style. I clung to his neck and let out a shriek. I had not been expecting that. He was, however, freezing like I had expected.

"Ready?"

I could only nod, not trusting my voice.

The next second, we both vanished from view. It was the single creepiest experience of my entire life. I could feel Phantom's arms holding me but I couldn't see them. I could feel my legs rubbing against each other but I couldn't see it. This must be the 'intangible' thing he had been talking about but it was still the freakiest thing I'd ever done. This caused me to cling more tightly to his neck.

"You know, if I was human, you would be strangling me right about now."

"That's not funny."

"And here I thought I was ready for stand-up."

"Your face is ready for stand-up."

"Ooh, you get grouchy when you're scared."

"I am _not_ scared!" I protested. Nervous maybe but certainly not scared. I was fearless! Or so I kept telling myself.

"Are you ready to take off?"

"Sure, let's go for it." I tightened my already lethal grip.

We were out of the house. I'm not quite sure how it happened, considering I was hiding my face in what I thought was his neck. I slowly lifted my head, watching Amity spin beneath me.

"Wow," I gasped. "This is amazing." I couldn't feel the rush of the wind or the freeze of air on my skin but just the sight took my breath away.

"Still scared?"

"We're doing this again," I replied with conviction. "Just so you know."

I felt him laugh against my side. "Sure, I think that would be a good idea."

"Awesome." I felt him tilt as he angled toward Paullina's house. "This is truly amazing. I can't believe that you get to do this whenever you want."

"Eh, it was a pretty steep price to pay."

"Oh, well, yeah," I nodded, "but since you can't change that you, you know, died, this is a good upside."

"Wow, are you being optimistic?"

"Why are you so hung up on the fact that I'm not usually happy and sunny?"

"I'm not. I like that you can be dark and happy and all these combinations of things."

I felt Phantom begin to descend. "We'll land on the street over from her house, just so we can become visible without freaking people out."

"Come on, we could perform the best magic trick of the night." I nudged him and he laughed.

"My life is in stand-up comedy, remember? I have no time to become a magician."

"Well god forbid I try to mess with your busy schedule."

"Damn right," Phantom placed me on the pavement and, the moment he released me, I could see myself again. "You have no idea how much my time tonight will cost you."

"What are you, a prostitute?"

Phantom appeared before my eyes. "That might have been a better costume for me."

I laughed.

He offered me his arm, "Shall we go to the ball, Princess?"

"I'm a goddess," I corrected.

"Shall we go to the ball, Goddess?"

I took his arm. "Lead the way, dear, sweet ninja prince."

The music spilling from the large Sanchez house was loud enough to send my chest thrumming. There were people everywhere. The lawn was cluttered with costumed people. Some were obviously drunk.

I turned to Phantom, "can you get drunk?"

"What?"

"Can ghosts get drunk?"

"Uh, I can't say I've ever tried." Phantom's eyes narrowed. "I don't plan on doing it tonight, either."

"That was my next thing. I don't want you to try to get drunk."

"Are you going to get drunk?"

"No. I don't want to get drunk." I shook my head. "It's not my idea of a good time. Like, who wants to poison themselves and puke for fun?"

"That's one way of looking at it."

We strode across the lawn and into the main house. The music grew so loud that I could barely hear myself think. I doubted I would here Phantom, even if he were shouting at me. I kept a tight hold of his arm. While I usually came to these things by myself (for the last four Halloweens anyway) now that I actually had a friend with me, I didn't want to lose him.

There was a flow of people headed into the house at the same time we were. I let them pull me, and by extension Phantom, toward where the music seemed to be coming from. The large dining room that I had been in once before had been cleared out and converted to a dance room. Paullina had a live band set up at one end. It was a big time pop singer; someone who I didn't usually listen too but I supposed was good in their own way.

Phantom pulled on my arm. I turned to face him and saw the outline of his lips moving under his mask. As I suspected, I couldn't hear a word he was saying. I pulled his head down closer to mine. "What?" I said into his ear.

"I said that there's a ghost attack," Phantom's voice was a little shaky with volume, "I have to go."

"Go?" I clung tightly to his arm. "But –"

"I will be back in an hour," Phantom swore. "I'll make sure no other ghosts come out tonight."

I released his arm. "An hour," I agreed.

Left alone, I was at a loss of what to do. So, I began to make my way through the crowd of dance teenagers.

"Hello there," this voice I heard better than Phantom's since I was farther away from the band.

I turned around and quickly recognized Dash. He was dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow from _Pirates Of The Caribbean. _"Hi," I greeted him, and quickly realized he would have no idea who I was. I didn't even know if he would remember me from that day on the beach.

"You new?" Dash asked, playing with the fake sword as his side.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Cool. My name is Dash," he held out his hand for me to shake.

"Aphrodite," I blurted out the name of the first Greek goddess I could think of.

"Aphrodite," Dash nodded. "Nice," his gaze licked over my frame.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at me. My costume wasn't very revealing, not compared to some of the other girls, but it was very fitted. I wanted him to start thinking of Paullina, trying to take his eyes/thoughts off of me.

"No," Dash shook his head. "I got someone I'm in love with though."

"Sucks they're not the same person."

Dash shrugged. "Want to dance?"

"Oh, um, I wouldn't want to hurt your chances with the girl you're in love with." Honestly, though, I probably would end up dancing with Dash. He wasn't a bad guy, though I could tell he had been into the alcohol in the house.

"I have no chance." Dash looked a little upset.

"Well, in that case, I would love to dance."

I let him take my hand and lead me onto the dance floor. I noticed that, as we began to really move to the music, he was moving us so that we were closer to Paullina and her dancing group. I cast a quick eye over them. Paullina was a slutty genie; the overly skinny blonde was a slutty angel, Kwan was Peter Pan and Tucker was a calculator. I grinned when I didn't see Fenton. Despite how I liked to show up to Halloween parties just to see how the jerks treated me differently, but I didn't want to run into Fenton. He made me feel awful about myself in a way that no other bully had.

"I like your costume," Dash told me.

"Thanks."

"DANNY!" The accented voice managed to reach my ears over the loud music.

I twisted my head slightly over Dash's shoulder. I had thought too soon. Fenton had burst into the room, dressed in a Prince's costume, from the crown to the cloak. I thought he looked like a pompous brat but, you know, what else is new?

Paullina tottered toward Fenton on enormous heels that I am 100% sure genies _never_ wore. She wrapped herself around him. As always, they looked extremely sexual with each other. I watched as Fenton fist bumped Kwan. Tucker tapped Fenton on the shoulder and whispered in his ear, jerking a thumb toward me.

I quickly ducked my face into Dash's shoulder. There was no way that they would recognize me. With a sinking feeling I realized that even if someone did recognize me, I couldn't leave. I had to wait for Phantom to come back. It was too long of a walk for me to attempt on my own (my wounds still had to rest for "another week" before I could start attempting "any exercise"). I knew we should have driven!

"Are you okay?" Dash asked. "You seem a little off all of a sudden."

"No, no," I protested. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Good." Dash stepped away from me so that we were only connected by our hands. "How about I introduce you to my friends?"

I had taken only a step when I realized who Dash considered his friends. Paullina, Kwan, Fenton, that blonde girl and possibly Tucker. That last one I wasn't sure about considering how Paullina had spoken about Tucker on several occasions. I tried to tug my hand out of Dash's, but he didn't let go. He just pulled me over to the group.

"Guys!" He grinned, "meet Aphrodite."

As Paullina glared disdainfully at me, I realized that I was being used by Dash. He didn't care wit about me. Tonight, I was being used to make Paullina jealous. It was a confidence booster to realize that I was considered pretty enough to make Paullina jealous. That also explained why Tucker had been pointed at me. It was probably extremely obvious how Dash felt about Paullina and Tucker had wanted Fenton to see that Dash might be moving on.

"Aphrodite, this is Paullina, Danny, Kwan, Tucker and Starr." _Starr._ The blonde girl.

"Hello," I greeted warmly, trying not to think about how much I hated them all.

"Hello," Paullina's lips twisted and I noticed how her eyes vainly tried to catch Dash's. I doubted she had ever loved him, but she certainly didn't want to lose his affection. "Aphrodite. That's a very unusual name."

"Yes." I said simply.

"Well, Aphrodite," Starr said in a high pitched voice, "how about a game of I've Never?"

What the hell is 'I've Never'?

**And Halloween continues next chapter! Where Fenton gets some real lines! I still feel bad for Dash, he deserves so much better than Paullina.**

**~TLL~**


	10. Chapter 10

"I don't know how to play this game," I whispered in Dash's ear.

"You've never played I've Never?" He gasped.

Paullina, who had been leading us away from the dance floor, turned and laughed. "Poor little Aphrodite." She winked. "We'll teach you how to play." She continued to lead us down an lavish hallway, before leading us up a set of stairs.

I had to gather the majority of my dress in my hand, lifting it. Dash kept his hand on my arm, as though to keep me from running away. I almost wanted to, but Fenton and Paullina were in front of us, Kwan and Starr behind us. I had nowhere to run. I let them lead me up the stairs, into the room at the top. I knew it was Paullina's bedroom, and it was huge.

"Sit, sit," Paullina gestured to the floor.

I looked around. The others were pulling up beanbag chairs. I stood awkwardly, as Dash pulled over two; one for me and one for him. I sat down on the pink chair. Dash was on my right, Starr on my left. Fenton was right across from me. His crown was pushing his hair down into his eyes, which were glaring at me.

"For those who don't know," Paullina began explaining, "I've Never is a drinking game. If someone says 'I've never driven a bus' and you have, you have to drink. We also play the opposite way. If someone says 'I have driven a bus' and you haven't, you have to drink." She turned around, plastic shot glasses in one hand, a large bottle of vodka in the other.

I began to panic. "I don't drink," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"You do tonight," Paullina shoved the plastic shot glass into my hand.

I sat it on the floor. "I'm not playing this stupid game."

Dash elbowed me. "Come on, live a little!"

Paullina poured vodka into everyone's shots, before sitting down next to Fenton. "You start, baby," she told him.

"I've never dressed up as a Greek Goddess for Halloween," he said.

"I'm not drinking," I crossed my arms.

Dash picked up my shot, holding it to my lips. "Come on, Aphrodite," he urged.

It was the name that did me in. I wasn't Sam tonight; loser, Goth Sam. I was Aphrodite, a beautiful Greek Goddess. I allowed him to feed me the shot. The alcohol burned going down, and it tasted absolutely disgusting. My stomach squirmed uncomfortably under the sensation.

"I have never been named Aphrodite," Paullina said. It was immediately obvious that I was being targeted.

Still, I allowed Dash to refill my shot, and I took it.

It was his turn. "I've never gone scuba diving."

Paullina took her first shot of the night. I took my third. Kwan also took a shot.

"I've never played I've never," I told them.

They all glared at me as they took their shots. Whatever. They were all trying to get me drunk. I could only return the favor. Several rounds later, I was super drunk, and the game had deteriorated into a conversations and random drinking.

"So, Aphrodite," Fenton was stretched out, Paullina twined around him, "where are you from?"

"Canada," I squeaked. "I'm here visiting my cousin." I was amazed I was able to think clearly enough to come up with a lie.

"Interesting." Fenton cocked his head to the side. "I don't think I've seen you before." I hadn't seen him take a shot all night.

I felt uncomfortable. I felt his eyes on me and I didn't like it. I felt like he _knew_. He knew who I really was and he was waiting, like a predator, to expose it. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let myself be thrown to the wolves like that, not like at their lake house. I stood up, my legs feeling like jelly under me. "I have to go." I threw myself out the door, stumbling down the stairs. The railing was my saving grace. Whenever I tripped, my grip on the railing would keep my grounded. My arms ached from the effort.

When I reached the dance floor, most people were raging drunk. How long had I been up there for? Had Phantom come back for me and, unable to find me, left? I couldn't let that happen. If I had needed him as a way home before, it was nothing compared to how I needed him to be here now. I wove through the crowd, bouncing between bodies. I was near where the stage was; the pop singer long gone. I was leaning heavily on the stage when arms wrapped around me. I would have panicked, were the arms not ice cold.

"I have been looking for you _everywhere_." Phantom's voice sounded in my ear.

"I'm sorry," I threw my arms around his neck, feeling oddly emotional. "I got wrapped up in some stupid game and, and, and," I forgot what I was going to say. No, it wasn't as simple as that. I forgot how to say words.

"Want me to take you home?"

Inexplicably, tears started dripping down my cheeks.

"Hey, hey," Phantom was staring at me, confused. "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know," I whined, although I'm sure it sounded more like '_I oint neer_'. Thankfully, he seemed to understand what I meant.

"Come here," he opened his arms, and picked me up. The cold of him felt surprisingly good.

Instead of him just flying off, he calmly walked out the front doors. The cold of the night air also made me feel a lot better. It also made me shiver. I clung tighter to Phantom, but that didn't bring me any relief. He was colder than the night air. "Is flying going to make you sick?"

His walking was making me feel sick. Any kind of motion was making me feel sick. I was going to throw up all over him. I continued to sob into his shoulder.

"We'll fly," Phantom decided. "It'll be over really quickly."

I let him make up his own mind. I was in no position to do any thinking. I stayed as still as I could, watching his shoulder disappear under my eyes. I felt him take off, jostling me slightly as we took to the air. This time it was not fun. This time it made my stomach twirl and made me seal my eyes shut. I just wanted to get home. I just wanted to get home and curl up in my bed and hopefully not wake up with a hangover. I had never been drunk before and now I knew the reason why.

Before I knew it, my feet were on the patio. Phantom and I appeared and my legs gave out. His arms caught me, holding me up. "You okay?"

"Mrph." I responded. At least my tears had stopped. I was just woozy and kind of out of it now.

Phantom picked me up again, walking me through the patio doors. He sat me down on the edge of my bed, and I fell backwards. He leaned over me, pulling the mask off of my face. I blinked. He also removed my shoes. I crawled up toward my pillows, but even that made me feel sick. I pulled off of my costume, unembarrassed that I was left in just my bra and underwear in front of Phantom. I squirmed under my covers.

As I got comfortable against my pillows, Phantom came to my side, pulling the covers over me. "Comfy?" He asked, and I swear I heard a smile in my voice.

"Mmm," I sighed.

"Okay, good. I'll see you tomorrow, Sam." His hand rubbed against my collarbone as he finished adjusting blankets. I reached up, faster than I thought possible, and I caught his arm. He turned back toward me.

"Stay?" I asked.

"What?"

I felt like his eyes were glowing in the darkness. Two bright green beacons. The white of his spandex seemed dull in comparison. Idly, I wondered where his costume had gone.

"Stay," I repeated, although I felt much drowsier this time. "Please."

Phantom seemed to pull back a little. "I don't think that it's such a good idea."

"Just until I fall asleep?" I was almost there, anyway.

"Sam –"

"Please. Pretty please with a cherry on top?" I gave his arm a tug.

The glow of his eyes seemed to soften. "Are you sure?"

I nodded eagerly and it made my head feel funny. "I am," I insisted. "Lay down."

He pulled my hand off of his arm, and I left my arm fall back onto the bed. I tucked it under my blankets, trying to feel warm. Phantom crossed to the other side of my bed, and gently laid himself on top of the blankets, at the very edge. He seemed so very far away and I wanted to feel his coldness against me. The warm felt good, but it also made me feel sicker. I liked his cold.

I started to shimmy toward him, but stopped when my head continued to feel like a Tilt-A-Whirl. I let my arms stretch out but I still couldn't reach him.

"Come here," I tried to pull him toward me with my voice.

He turned to look at me. "You are drunk."

I lolled my head from side to side. "I _know_." I pouted, or tried. The muscles in my face didn't seem to want to comply with my head. "I know."

"I just don't want to do everything a drunk girl tell me."

"Drunk girls have more fun."

"I thought that was blondes."

"Come here!" I tried again. If I was standing, I'm pretty sure I would have stamped my foot.

Phantom gave a sigh, before he gave into me. Before I could process what he was doing, he was next to me. He was cold and unyielding right next to me. As creepy as it was, he felt like a body. I put my head against his shoulder, feeling his cold seep into my skull, surround my brain and begin to numb it. Phantom shifted underneath me, and I felt his arm go under my head, around my shoulders. I curled myself around his body, and I felt so small next to him. Yet, it felt so natural to have him next to me; to hold him like that.

That was my last thought before I passed out.

(-.-)

My alarm was loud and awful the next morning. Curse Halloween night being on a Wednesday. No, that wasn't right. Curse _me_ for being stupid enough to get drunk; give in to peer pressure. Whether or not I was going by my real name last night, it was still me. And I didn't do stuff like that. I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to drink.

I contemplated staying home, staying curled up in bed. Mother wouldn't care. Except … fuck. I had a freaking math test today that I couldn't miss. I dragged myself off of my bed and the ground spun beneath me. I tottered forward into the bathroom and quickly got ready. The drive to school wasn't as rough as I thought it would be.

I pulled into the school parking lot. I felt increasingly dizzy as I headed for my lockers.

"Hey, loser!" Paullina came up to me, alone but for Starr. "I would like to thank you."

"What?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Was she being pleasant?

"I would like to thank you," Paullina repeated impatiently, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"For?" I prompted. I didn't really have time or the frame of mind, to deal with her.

"Not coming to my party. I didn't want my guests to be infected with ickiness."

_Ickiness?_ What was she a pre-schooler?

"You know what Paullina I –" I was cut off by the arrival of Fenton and Tucker.

"Hi, slut!" Fenton smiled at me, a smile I didn't trust.

"Slut?" Paullina cocked her head. "I thought sluts got boys."

"Sluts get paid for sex!" Tucker added with a screeching laugh.

I wanted to die.

**I am looking for a beta reader for this story. If you would like to beta read or know a good beta reader, please let me know. Thank you! I don't own **_**Danny Phantom**_**.**

**~TLL~**


	11. Chapter 11

When Phantom arrived later that day, I was on the roof crying. The early November wind ripped through my clothing and I embraced it. Tears seemed to freeze on my cheeks as the cold air that had comforted me last night whipped against me tonight. My hair was thrown into my face and I welcomed that stinging sensation too.

"Sam?" Phantom's voice was laden with worry. I had been worried if my actions last night had made things weird between us, but it hadn't seemed to change anything. "What are you doing?"

"Crying," I replied, wiping at my eyes. I had fallen into the habit of crying, it seemed. I had never shed as many tears as I had in Amity Park.

"Why?"

I wanted Phantom to reach for me. I wanted to feel the weight of his chilled arm around my shoulders, his bony hip rubbing against mine. I wanted a source of physical comfort as well as the emotional one that he had so selflessly been offering me. Yet, he stayed where he was, just across from me. I couldn't meet his eyes.

"I fucking hate people." I managed to force that sentence between my lips before I broke down again, a fresh wave of tears bursting forth as the events of the day crashed down upon me again and again.

"I don't understand," Phantom admitted after a long moment of listening to me sob. "But whatever it is, it'll be okay. High school doesn't last forever."

"Bitches do," I shot back. "No matter where I go I am destined to be hated."

"That can't be true."

"Yes it can!" I threaded my hands through my hair, digging my nails into my scalp. "I have never been liked. I have always been the weird kid. I fought for my individuality and I am so happy with myself but there are times when all those cookie cutter clones are pointed at me with their snide remarks that shouldn't hurt but they do and all I can think of is how much easier life would be if I was exactly like them."

"Life isn't easy for anyone. Everyone has flaws and faults and you're already ahead of the game by accepted yourself for who you are. I can think of only one teenage girl who can say that. Whatever you do, Sam, you will go far. I can feel it."

I dared a glance up to his face. "Did you get a psychic power too?" I asked, wanting so badly to believe his words. I _could_ live up to the goals and standards I had set for myself. I would grow up to change the world like I so badly wanted too. I wanted to believe in Phantom's words for my destiny so badly I could taste it.

"No," Phantom shook his head, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. "I just know you. Probably better than you realize. Because I know how determined you are, how fierce. I know how passionate you are about the environment, and who you are. Someday you will be an inspiration to millions of people and where will Paullina be, do you think? Doling out her inherited money for the best age reversing technology out there?"

"She could do something with her life too," I protested gently. Although I hated Paullina with every fiber of my being at this moment, I wanted to believe in everyone.

"Of course," Phantom nodded, giving me this, "but she is so wrapped up in her beauty right now; her _physical_ beauty. She has to embrace that she has depth and dreams beyond a pretty face. You already have."

"I'm not pretty." I wiped at my eyes again, a slow, steady stream of tears dripped down my face.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

I blinked up at him. Was he actually calling me beautiful?

"Now," Phantom offered me his hand, "can I take you inside where it's warm?"

"Are we going to end up in bed again?" I made my tone overly innocent.

Phantom chuckled. "There's the girl I know. Come on."

I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. I tripped into his hold, and before I knew it, we were sinking through my roof. I didn't have a chance to freak out at him before I was safely on my bed. It didn't matter how many times I did that intangibility thing, it was still extremely weird. As I debated how weird it actually was, Phantom wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. I hadn't even realized I was shivering.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

I didn't want to talk about it, but I wanted him to know.

"I've mentioned Fenton to you before?" I began.

Phantom's brow knitted, thinking. "I believe so. He's a jerk, yes?"

I nodded. "A huge ass hat." I paused as Phantom burst into giggles. I had never heard a teenage boy giggle quite like that. "What's so funny?"

"Did you just call someone an ass hat?" Phantom clarified, between bursts of laughter.

"It's a perfectly acceptable insult," I defended myself, but, before I realized it, I had let out a small laugh too.

"So what did the ass hat do today?"

"Well, it started off with him and this guy, Tucker insinuating that I was a prostitute in front of a bunch of people. They made me feel horrible. Because that's attacking who I am, which they don't know at all. I am a virgin. I've never even been kissed." I shook my head in frustration. "It would probably be more accurate to call them prostitutes. Don't the popular guys always have bunches of sex?" I thought for a moment. Fenton got _one_ brownie point for not sleeping with Paullina yet.

Phantom shrugged. "I've never been one of those guys."

"That's how my day started. My day ended with my car being covered in drawings and photos of multiple dicks being glued –_ glued_ – to my car and 'suck it whore' being spray painted on the side." The tears began falling again. "It was like that when I came out. I have no idea who did it but I would bet you any money that Fentass did it! I don't know why they hate me." I looked up at Phantom. "Why am I so hate-able?"

He had me wrapped in his arms in a second. I felt his collarbone dig into my temple as I curled on his lap, clinging to him, crying into the front of his spandex. "You're not hate-able." He assured me, one hand stroking my hair. "I don't hate you."

As he rocked me back and forth, I had one coherent thought left. I had never thought it would be possible, but I wanted to go back to New Orleans.

(-.-)

There had been no school today. The long weekend was a nice break, especially after the events of last Thursday and Friday. I had spent Friday crying into Phantom's shoulder too (penises were actually being whipped out at me in the school hallways). I felt awful about being so weak that I couldn't stand up for myself, but there were too many bullies for me to fight here. I was overwhelmed, outnumbered and out-tacticed. But it was Monday, and, as per our agreement, I was tutoring Fenton.

I severely wanted to quit. I was going to quit. After today, I was done. Someone else could teach the dunce who was still stuck in his immature unicorn phase.

I was leaning on the water cooler when someone tapped my shoulder. I jumped, spinning. My cup fell to the floor, my water creating a deadly puddle. My eyes met bright blue ones. Fenton eyes, but not his.

"Jazz," I managed to muster a smile for my old tutor. "Hi."

"Hi, Sam." Jazz smiled nervously. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

I shrugged. "Sure." I hadn't had a good conversation with Jazz in several weeks.

I followed Jazz into one of the small offices that dotted the tutoring center. She sat in one of the comfortable rolling chairs and I took the other. As I waited for her to begin speaking, I wheeled the chair back and forth, watching the world seemingly revolve around me for a moment.

"I would like to talk to you about what is going on with Danny."

Internally, I flinched at the name. Outwardly, I played dumb. "Is something going on with him?" I inquired.

"Don't play innocent, Sam." Jazz shook her head, grimacing. "I know that he's been a major jerk to you."

I had no idea of the extent of Jazz's knowledge. Would Fenton really have told her about all that he had done to me? The trips, the unearned reputation? What about the parts the Fenton didn't know? The way I cried for hours, the way I had to lie to my mother about the car and tell her that the teenagers had destroyed the wrong car? Or, what about the way that each insult they threw at me, each verbal sneer, physical act, laugh aimed in my direction, probed a wound from New Orleans, one that had not yet healed?

"We are not the best of friends," I waded forward cautiously. I didn't want to make Jazz angry. She was one of the few people in Amity that were actually nice to me. For some reason, she actually seemed to care about her brother.

"Danny has had a really hard life."

_I bet_, my judgmental side chimed as I, once again, flinched at the casual use of his first name.

"I know that it's no excuse for any way that he has hurt you, nor will it make you feel any better. I am trying to help him but Danny likes to show off. He has always been one of the kids that was picked on through school and now he wants to do some picking. It's not right, and he of all people should know that. If you stand up to him when he is being mean or cocky, I bet he will leave you alone. He isn't a bad kid, not really."

"Well, thank you for the insight." My leg muscles tensed, ready to walk out of that office. My mouth felt like cotton. How could I possible tell Jazz that I never wanted to see her brother again? How could I tell her I didn't want to tutor him anymore, when she had just asked me to give him the benefit of the doubt?

"And I know he isn't easy to tutor. I know how he is, I myself have tried. But I would like to thank you for sticking with him. He actually passed a math test yesterday and it's all thanks to you. Thank you for not giving up on him." Jazz reached out and rested her hand on my arm.

"No problem." I stared at her hand as if it were an alien. I wasn't used to this; a gentle human touch. I was used to Phantom's ice cold gestures and the hurtful human elbows and pokes and kicks and trips, but a living human being gentle? It was so strange and it depressed me that it was strange to me.

"I have one more favor to ask of you," Jazz's eyes were lit up a brilliant blue. Her eyes were so full of hope and dreams, a look that I thought was only for small children.

"Shoot," I told her, already feeling like I would come to regret walking away at that moment.

"As you may have noticed, Danny has trouble getting to the center on time."

I nodded. I would be stupid not to have noticed Fenton's complete disregard of time.

"Well, I was thinking, would you be willing to tutor him at home? My home, I mean. I feel like it would be a better learning environment for Danny. It would be the same time. We could even up your pay. Tutors who make house calls usually make about ten more dollars an hour."

I didn't want to tutor Fenton period. In no way did I want to be in his house, his _domain_. I might be even more at his mercy there.

But, looking at Jazz who had so much faith in this ass hat, the word, "sure" tumbled from my lips before I could stop it.

**Sam's gonna meet the parents! Sorry, slightly excited. Story will be updated on a weekly basis (if I can stick to schedule) now that school has started. Still looking for a beta, please. I don't own **_**Danny Phantom.**_

**~TLL~**


	12. Chapter 12

"I'm sorry I've been so emotional lately," I apologized to Phantom after I ended my rant on my impending visit (impending as in one and a half hours for dinner) to Fenton's house and my own weakness in not turning away from Jazz.

"I don't mind," Phantom was casually leaning against the footboard of my bed. Ever since physical contact had become normal with us, the amount of time he had spent floating had decreased greatly. I couldn't understand the reasoning behind this, but as long as he was with me I didn't mind.

"Really? Because I can't even stand myself sometimes with the way I bitch and cry."

"Really," he confirmed, a trace of a chuckle on his lips. "I'm your friend. Friends are for listening."

I repositioned myself so that I was propped up against the footboard too, my shoulder rubbing against his. "So tell me something. My turn to listen."

"I accidentally had my first kiss when I was tripped in school when I was twelve and I fell on top of a girl."

I scoffed. "Stuff like that doesn't actually happen to people."

"It does to me," Phantom insisted. "Why don't you ever believe my stories? You didn't believe me about the seagulls either."

"I'm sorry," I apologized. I was mostly sincere. There was only a tiny part of me that was being sarcastic.

"What part of your life would be most movie like?" He asked me.

"I don't understand," I admitted, after mulling it over for a moment.

"You said some stuff doesn't happen in real life. What part of your life is one of those moments that don't happen in real life?"

"The car thing," I said automatically. "I thought that teenagers would only be that mean and destructive in movies."

"Oh," Phantom went quiet. I loved that I didn't have to elaborate on what I meant by 'the car thing'. I loved that he knew what event I was referring to by that.

"Most unexpected moment?"

Phantom looked down at me. "My death."

"Typical," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "You go for the easiest answer."

"The easiest answer!?" He exclaimed. "You mean the truthful answer!"

"I said what I said." I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

Phantom cocked his head to the side and gave me a look that made me feel like I should flee. Before I could trust my flight or fight instinct, his hands were on my ribs, tickling me.

"No!" I shrieked. "No, no, stop! Stop! Stop. You know I'm most ticklish there!" My words were broken by my waves of laughter. Damn that boy for using my weakness – and only ticklish spot – against me. "Phantom!"

I struggled to get away from him. I attempted to log roll off my bed and onto my carpet but, faster than I could react, Phantom had straddled my knees, holding me down. His hands never left my ribs the entire time he was moving. I was gasping for air when he let up for a moment.

"_Second_ most unexpected moment," I altered my question.

Phantom shook his head instead of answering. "My turn for a question."

I nodded my consent for his question, though I knew he didn't need it.

"First crush?"

"Mickey Mouse. Second most unexpected moment?"

Phantom closed his eyes for a moment. "Forgive me, Sam." He whispered.

"For what?" My brow furrowed in confusion.

"It's this one."

Before I could process that, Phantom was leaning over me, the chill of his body sweeping over my own. His lips pressed to mine and I gasped in spite of myself. It was the most innocent kiss I could imagine my first kiss being. His lips were soft and dry as they met my own. Yet, this innocent kiss had chills running up and down my spine.

I'll admit, I never thought of Phantom in a romantic light. Or perhaps I hadn't let myself. I knew that he was dead and I knew that falling for him – even just a tiny crush – could only end in hurt. I didn't dare mess up the friendship we had because I knew that without him I wouldn't have a chance of surviving Amity. But, this moment, when he kissed me and I felt him against me it felt _right_. I know that I'm nowhere near the first girl to say this about a boy, yet it felt like. It felt like I was the first person to experience this feeling.

Of course, I was kissing a ghost so I may have very well been the first person to experience this feeling.

Phantom pulled away after a second and there was this look in his eye that, like so many things about Phantom, I just don't understand. He floated off of my body.

"I should leave," he exclaimed abruptly.

I sat up, stretching for his hand. I couldn't let him go. I couldn't let whatever was happening go. It's not like I fell in love with Phantom the millisecond he kissed me. It's not like I was one of those epically obsessed girls or anything, but I needed to talk to him. I didn't want him to go away because I knew that he could hide from me indefinitely (or, you know, until I die). I didn't want to hide from any feelings that I might have uncovered during that moment.

"Stay." I asked and it felt like it was a repeat of the night I was drunk. Once again I was reaching for Phantom and begging for his company. "Please."

"I shouldn't have done that," Phantom looked like a young child that had been caught misbehaving and I didn't want him to feel like that. He was a teenage boy and he felt something for me. He shouldn't be ashamed of his feelings. "I just you are so different from anyone I know and I feel like we have this amazing connection and I tried not to. I swear I have been trying not to kiss you for so long because I couldn't bear to mess this friendship up because I know that it can't be anything more than that but you just looked so beautiful that I –"

I held up my hand to stop him, feeling regretful that I had done so. He always let me go on, for hours sometimes, but I needed to stop his guilt-trip. "Don't," I begged him. "Don't apologize for kissing me. I bet that you think that I'm disgusted or something right now and I promise you I'm not. I just don't know if I can give you back what you're offering me."

"I have to go." He said firmly. "I'll … I … Bye Sam."

He went invisible and then I felt the room warm up. He had vanished and as I curled up in a ball, I prayed that he hadn't gone forever. I felt awful that I couldn't be one of those girls that was delighted that the boy had finally kissed her because she had wanted him for so long. I felt bad, also, because I had never looked at him in that light. I had noticed that he was attractive with a lot of traits that I might, at some point, look for in a future boyfriend.

By this logic, why _hadn't_ I looked at Phantom as a romantic interest? Was it because he was dead? All of my instincts were telling me no, that it wasn't because Phantom was a ghost. I think that real reason I never saw Phantom in that light was that I had needed a friend. In truth, my entire life I had desperately needed a friend. And, somehow, Fate had deemed it that I would get the best friend I desperately needed; the best friend in the entire world. I didn't want to think past that, didn't want it to get overly complicated because being with Phantom was easy. I had felt comfortable with him from the beginning. Well, after the first encounter in my bedroom when he scared the bejesus out of me because I thought he was going to kill me.

But now that the door had been opened, I had to at least explore what was on the other side. I needed to sit down and have a serious conversation with myself about the extent of my feelings for Phantom and how far I thought my feelings could potentially go for him. Unfortunately, I didn't have time. I was due for dinner at Fenton's in ten minutes.

(-.-)

I stared up in shock at the eccentric home in front of me. I had no doubt that I was in the right place – the home was clearly labeled _Fenton Works_. This was where the ghost hunters, the ass hat and Jazz lived. Jazz who I already knew would not be there due to a college class that happened be at six. I drew in a deep breath. I hated at least one person in here and already had a strong dislike for the other two. Still, I knocked on the door and waited.

The door opened and an attractive middle-aged woman flung the door open. "Welcome!" She cried. "You must be Sam the miracle worker!"

"Hello," I managed. I saw immediately where Jazz got both her enthusiasm and her bright red hair from.

"I'm Maddie Fenton, Danny's mother." She grinned wildly, reaching out to wrap an arm around my shoulders. I flinched before I realized the gesture was friendly. "Come in dear. We're so happy that could come to the house to help Danny."

"The pleasure is mine," I managed, my head spinning from her overzealousness.

"Jack! Danny!" Maddie yelled as she continued to steer me through the living room and into a kitchen where she plopped me down at a table. "Do you like spaghetti and meatballs?"

"Actually I'm a vegetarian."

Maddie didn't even blink. "Just spaghetti then?" She continued to smile.

"Sounds delicious."

"Excellent!" Maddie turned toward the stove before calling for her family members again.

"Is dinner ready, Maddie?" A large man dressed entirely in orange stuck his head in the kitchen.

"Almost dear," Maddie replied. "Where is Danny?"

"I think he just went into the bathroom. When you gotta go, you gotta go!"

"Jack," Maddie turned to her husband. "Did you say hello to Sam?"

"Hello to Sam!" Jack fully entered the kitchen and I tried not to stare at just how very large he was. Well, I reasoned, so long as he was healthy.

Jack reached out and seized my hand, pumping my arm up and down. My whole body quaked with the force of his handshake. "Hello," I squeaked, slightly intimidated by this family.

"You're Danny's tutor?"

I nodded stiffly and tried not to sigh with relief as Jack released my hand.

"You are doing a wonderful job." Jack complimented me before sitting down across from me. "Gotta thank you dear."

"You're welcome," I breathed.

"DANNY!" Maddie screamed for her son, causing both Jack and I to jump. "Dinner!"

She began to place plates on the table. I stood, pushing my chair away from me as I did so. "How can I help?" I offered.

"Oh, no need," Maddie waved me off gestured for me to take my seat again. "I've got this under control."

"Let me help," I insisted, plucking forks, knives, and spoons out of the drawer she had just opened.

Maddie, realizing that she couldn't stop me even if she was dead set on trying, simply beamed at me. "Why, thank you!" She gushed. Her eyes focused on something over my head. "Danny, you didn't tell me that your friend was so helpful!"

"She's just my tutor, Mom." Fenton's voice sounded exhausted, but still full of attitude.

I turned back toward the table, utensils in hand. As I set the table, I had to resist the urge to stab Fenton through the hand with the fork and knife, respectively. It was tempting but he was slumped over his chair, looking utterly defeated. It wouldn't be very noble of me to kick a man who wasn't kicking back. So I simply took my seat as Maddie placed the food on the table.

She smiled at me and I couldn't help but smile back at her.

**Phantom drama. Upcoming Fenton (ass hat and family) drama. So excited! Poor Sam. Amity really is a drama filled place (kinda like Rosewood but without the creepy. Just a comparison for my PLL readers!). This was beta'd by **_**Forever Sky**_**. I don't own **_**Danny Phantom**_**.**

**~TLL~**


	13. Chapter 13

"So, Sam, how did you meet Danny?" Maddie asked as she spooned spaghetti onto my plate.

"Tutoring center," I replied automatically. There was no way I was going to explain to Maddie how much I hated her son.

"Danny," Jack said slowly, "Remember my advice."

I glanced at Fenton, who let out a heavy sigh. "What advice would that be, Dad?" he sounded depressed.

"To marry a woman smarter than you!" Jack crowed with a huge smile on his face.

Several things happened at once. I choked on my pasta, Maddie went "Jack!" and Fenton accidentally stabbed himself on the hand with his fork. I started to cough to dislodge the pieces of spaghetti that I thought would be my demise.

"Jack!" Maddie repeated, "We don't want to embarrass Sam and Danny."

"Oh, Maddie!" Jack scoffed. "I wasn't talking about the kids" here Jack winked but I'm not totally sure why "I was talking about when Danny meets the girl he's meant to fall in love with." He winked again, but this time it was aimed at me. And then I realized. He was trying to imply that I was going to marry Fenton!

No.

No.

Nonononononononononono.

No!

And it's not one of those long freak outs that girls do because they like a guy like I've seen in the movies. It's one of those long freak outs because Fenton either made me want to throw him or myself off the top of an extremely tall building.

"She's just my tutor." Danny snapped, dropping his fork on his still full plate. "You done?" he asked me roughly.

I glanced down at my half emptied plate. "Sure," I agreed knowing that the one thing Fenton and I had in common was that we wanted as little time with each other as possible.

"We'll be upstairs," Fenton told his mother and stood, exiting the room.

I scrambled to my feet, quickly waving at Maddie. "Thank you for dinner!"

I followed Fenton through a living room and up a tall set of stairs. We reached a hallway and he quickly pulled me into the first door on the left. I glanced around the room – Fenton's bedroom. It was different than I thought it would be, if I had ever bothered to picture Fenton's bedroom at all. The most interesting thing about his room that I, admittedly, adored was the glass ceiling. He could see the sky no matter what. It was breathtaking.

"Wow," I spoke aloud, staring up.

"Yeah," Fenton took a seat on his desk chair. "Can we just get this over with?"

"Why are you so pissy today?" I demanded. "You're not usually this asshole-ish."

Fenton stood. "What makes you think that you have the right to judge me like that?"

"I'm not judging you," I said slowly. Anger was plastered across all of his features and I felt intimidated by the way he was looming over me. If I was going to be perfectly honest, he was scaring me. If he wanted to do any sort of damage to me, he could. He could pick me up and throw me as easily as he could his book bag.

"You fucking sound like you are."

I didn't mean to, but I flinched at the sound of his voice and it just seemed to make him angrier. "Can we just get through this so you can leave?"

"Gladly," I muttered. I took a seat next to him at his desk, which put us in much closer proximity than we'd ever been while we were studying.

I reached across him to flip open his textbook and he drew in a sharp breath. I looked at him curiously and he looked like he was in some kind of intense pain. Slowly, I withdrew my arm, my elbow brushing against his chest. His eyes flashed open at the brief contact, his blue eyes zeroing in on me. I felt myself shake slightly because I knew Fenton hated me and I knew that he had no problems with hurting me.

"Get out." He snapped.

"What?"

"Get out. I want you to leave me the hell alone!" His voice curled into a shout.

I stood and walked away. I didn't want to speed walk to get away from him so I went slowly down the stairs and out the front door. I was thankful that I hadn't run into Maddie or Jack on my way out. The second I was outside of Fenton's house and onto the street, I burst into tears. Again I was weak, again I was destroyed and this time, I had nowhere to turn. Like before Phantom, I only had myself to turn to.

I found my way through the streets of Amity, pulling my hood over my head so no one would be able to see my face. I wouldn't want to run into Paullina or someone because I didn't know what I would do. I didn't want to think about what I would do. Sometimes my own thoughts scared me and I wanted to stay as far away from those thoughts as possible.

I couldn't go home so I went to the park. Unfortunately, the park only made me think of Paullina's attempted rape of Fenton. I had to force myself to walk through the piece of nature, to enjoy the scenes around me. The outdoors had always been my happy place; my place to calm down and find myself. I needed to try to allow that peace to flood through me. I had to try to recapture that.

Unfortunately, my mind kept bouncing, jumping from topic to topic fleetingly. I went from a fear of Fenton to confusion over Phantom and back again. Thinking about Fenton made me feel destructive so I chose to focus my mind on Phantom. I needed to seriously think about what had happened between us earlier because no matter what happened, I couldn't lose him. I still didn't know what I thought of the kiss. I still didn't know if I had ever even wanted him to kiss me.

I think one of those main things I had to consider was if I took the ghost out of the equation, what did I have? I had an incredibly sweet boy, my age, who never failed to listen to me and would hold me when I needed him to. And what person of any age didn't want a person like that in their lives? But it wasn't Phantom's feelings for me that were in question though, it was how I felt about him. And did I treat him the same way he treated me? The answer to that was no. I didn't treat Phantom the same way he treated me but I wanted to. I wanted to be the type of person that Phantom was but does that mean I liked him?

Or do I just want to like him because he liked me?

I walked around on the frost covered grass, wanting to tear out my hair. Feelings were so confusing. I couldn't even muddle out my own! I wanted to like Phantom, but that didn't mean I did. But I also didn't want to lose Phantom by telling him that I just wanted to be friends. On the other hand, I think I enjoyed the kiss far too much to just be his friend. Yet, did I enjoy the kiss because it was from Phantom or did I enjoy the kiss because I enjoyed being kissed? I had never been kissed before so I had nothing to answer that question with.

I was only left with the empty feeling of missing Phantom. Usually at this time of day, I was with him. I was laughing and smiling, a feeling that I have never had in the presence of another person. And that, I realized, was the key. Phantom made me feel like I never had before. And it wasn't just because he was one of the first friends I could ever remember. It was because of his quirks and his laughs and the way he made me feel. He made me want to be better, do better, than I ever thought I could be. And that was something that was prominent in romance books, wasn't it? That being with a person you like made you want to be more than yourself because you wanted to be better for them.

So it wasn't that I was totally in love with Phantom, or that I even had one of those massive crushes that made me not want to live without him. It was that I wanted to try to be more than his friend. There was just something with Phantom that made me feel like I'd never felt before.

I just needed to be able to find him to tell him this.

Darkness was beginning to descend and I had no idea where to even start to look for him. Slowly, I turned back toward my house. I was hoping that he would be there, sitting on my bed like he had never left. Like had been waiting for me to get home so we could talk. Because before anything was said or done, we did need to talk. Talk like he hadn't been willing to earlier this afternoon.

But when I reached my room, it was empty. I rushed out onto my balcony but he wasn't seen there either. He wasn't on the roof either. I crawled back into my room, feeling defeated. I stripped off my clothes and crawled into bed, feeling the chill of the sheets around me. I buried my head in the pillow and cried.

(-.-)

I was freezing. It wasn't normal for the house to be cold at, I squinted at the clock, 3:37 in the morning. I reached for my blankets to block out the supernatural chill and my insides froze as well. He would make the room cold.

I bolted into a sitting position, grabbing my blankets to keep me covered. "Phantom!" I called into the darkness. Just because I couldn't see him in the darkness didn't mean that he wasn't there. I called his name again.

"I'm sorry," in an instant, Phantom was near the end of my bed, his green eyes as bright as any star. "I shouldn't be here while you're sleeping. I just didn't know how to face you when you were awake."

"Please talk to me." I whispered. "I can't lose you. You're the best friend I ever had and I don't think I could handle you just walking out of my life."

"I don't want to walk away from you." Phantom took a step closer to me. "And if you just want me to be your friend, that's okay. I can do that."

"Come here," I gestured for him to come closer, before pulling him down to sit next to me. I looked into his eyes and was even more sure of the fact that I could be, _wanted_ to be, more than his friend. "Kiss me again."

Phantom shook his head. "Sam, you don't have to like me just because I like you. It's okay."

"Kiss me again," I repeated, more forcefully so he would know that I wasn't joking. Though he should know by now that I wasn't going to mess with his feelings, that it wasn't who I was.

Phantom hesitantly brought his hand to my face. The familiar, but no less thrilling, chill seeped through me as he ran his fingers over my face. I closed my eyes against the feeling of him cradling my cheek, running his fingers across my nose and eyes. I felt him lean closer to me and my heart sped up. I felt his hesitation (and mine too) as he kissed me for the second time. It was more thrilling than the first. I felt my entire body melt in toward him. I felt my toes curl together under the blanket and a wayward thought of how I hoped I wasn't a bad kisser.

He leaned back moments later. And I slowly opened my eyes to see him doing the same thing. He dropped his hand away from my face and I felt a few degrees warmer. I grabbed his hand the second I could.

"What do you want from us?" Phantom was looking at our intertwined fingers. I could practically feel the hope in his voice.

"I want to be more than just your friend." I bit my lip, unsure of how to phrase it. I didn't want him to think I had deeper feelings for him than I did. "I like you Phantom, honest. I just didn't know what to think this afternoon because I had never thought of you like that."

"Is it because I'm dead?" He asked bluntly.

"No!" I answered instantly, but had to go back and revise. "At least, I don't think so. I think it's because you are such a good friend to me, I don't know what I would do without you, and I didn't want to lose that."

"I don't understand. If you were so afraid a few hours ago then what changed?"

"I realized that I did have feelings for you. And I felt that I owed it to the both of us to at least try." I squeezed his hand. "If you want us to be together, that is."

"Of course I do." Phantom reached out, sliding a hand around my blanketed waist. He pulled me closer to him, still keeping our two hands connected. He dipped his head and kissed me again, as soft and innocent as the last two.

(-.-)

Going to school the next day, I couldn't even be anxious over running into Fenton again. I was still on cloud nine from Phantom. I swore I could still feel his cold touch running through my veins, fueling the smile on my face. As I headed to my locker, I got a text from Jazz.

_ Jazz: I heard Danny fired you_.

_Me: If he doesn't want me to tutor him I won't._

_ Jazz: He needs you._

_ Me: Then he'll have to tell me that_.

I didn't get a reply from her and I hoped that I hadn't come off too mean to Jazz. But I was right. If Fenton wanted my help, Fenton could come beg me for it. I had to put up with him at school. I didn't have to put up with him in my spare time either. As I pulled out the text book I would need for my morning class the speakers for the announcements sprang to life.

"Would students please report to the office to receive their lists of required extracurricular activities?"

I dropped my textbook in my messenger bag and headed straight for the office. I wasn't looking forward to this at all but at least I knew what activities I would be involved in. I didn't see why I wouldn't have the activities I signed up for. I should have anticipated the fact that the universe is out to get me. On the plus side, I was only in two activities. As the secretary explained in, new students only had to do two activities. On the bad side, one of my activities was cheerleading.

I didn't even have my medical excuse to hide behind anymore. I was given the physical okay from the doctor last week. I would always have scars but I was in no danger of reopening them. So I had to report to the gym at 3:30 for my first practice.

(-.-)

Let it be put on the record that I was wrong. Paullina is, in fact, a cheerleader. Hooray! Not. She and Starr were co-captains. When they saw that I was on the team their noses flew straight up into the air and their lips curled as though I were a carrier of the plague.

"Well, everyone!" I noticed Paullina looked _away_ from me as I said this, "As it is the first day our first order of business is to get you set up with a uniform. So, please come over to me and Starr and give us your size."

I shuffled in with the other girls in the cheerleading line, blending into the crowd as much as I could. Of course, my black lipstick and dark wardrobe already made me conspicuous.

"Hi!" I turned as a peppy voice sounded from behind me.

"Hello," I replied warily. The girl was as short as I was and plumper than most of the girls in the line.

"I'm Valerie." She continued to smile at me. "Are you new?"

"Sam," I told her.

"You don't look like the cheerleading type," she said.

"Neither do you," I returned. And she didn't. I wasn't talking about her body type. She certainly looked like she could fit in with the popular girls but there was something about how her clothes were worn and how the way Starr had avoided looking at her like the way Paullina didn't look at me that made me wonder.

"Used to be. Not anymore." Valerie shook her head. "Those two used to be my best friends but my family lost our money and suddenly I wasn't important anymore."

"That's harsh." I rolled my eyes. "See, that's why I can't stand either of them. They are so shallow!"

"Starr isn't so bad. And Paullina wouldn't like me anyway. Not after what happened with her boyfriend."

"What happened with her boyfriend?" I glanced at Valerie as the line shuffled forward.

"We used to go out like, end of middle school. Paullina always made fun of me for going out with such a geek but he was a nice kid. We broke up in the second year of high school. Then he and Paullina got together. Right before my family went broke, I was at one of Paullina's parties. Danny and I were super drunk and we ended up –" Valerie blushed. "Anyway, Paullina found us in her bed together and that started the whole ordeal."

I winced. "Her boyfriend seems like such a jerk though. Why would you even –"

"He changed." Valerie said simply, and I stepped forward to Paullina.

I told her what size uniform I would need.

"Lying bitch." Paullina rolled her eyes. "No one is that small. I'm not even that small."

"Paullina is, like, the smallest person _alive_," Starr informed me. "So tell us your real size."

This was going to be one of the longest years of my life.

And, for the record, that is my real size.

**I would like to point out that I do have **_**Forever Sky**_** as wonderful betas and that sometimes I choose to ignore their suggestions so any mistakes are still just my fault. Also, as some of you may have picked up on this chapter is about a thousand words longer than my usual length and the reason for this is because I got an amazing pm about this story from cheesecakelover110 and I just appreciated how much she loved this story so I wrote her an extra thousand words! I don't own **_**Danny Phantom**_

**~TLL~**


	14. Chapter 14

"All right girls!" Paullina clapped her hands together. "That is all we have time for today. Practices are every Monday and Friday after school."

"Sometimes we have extra practices!" Starr added enthusiastically.

Oh joy. I had to do this more than twice a week sometimes? I couldn't contain my excitement.

"Right," Paullina purred, though she was looking annoyed at having been interrupted. "You are dismissed." She told us.

I power walked over to my bag, slinging it onto my shoulder.

"Where's the fire?" Valerie had caught up to me.

"Nothing really." I nodded my head in the direction of Paullina and Starr. "I just don't want to spend any more time around Paullina than I have to."

"I understand." Valerie hesitated for a second. "Look, would you want to hang out some time? I know we don't really know each other that well but," She shrugged, "We're joined together in mutual hatred of Paullina."

"Yeah," I nodded. "I think that would be great."

"Friday?" Valerie suggested. "We could get a bite after practice."

"Sounds great." I nodded and left the gym, Valerie going out one of the other doors.

I sucked in a breath as I approached my car. Someone other than Phantom wanted to spend time with me. It amazed me. Valerie seemed super nice and I wanted to trust that she just wanted to hang out. I couldn't allow myself to blindly rely on that but I was confident that Valerie would be able to show how genuine she was.

I drove home, hoping Phantom was already there.

He was, lounging on my bed. Actually, he was lying on my bed reading.

"Hi," I said, dropping my bag by the door.

Phantom gently put the book down, sitting up. "I borrowed it from your shelf." He gestured to the book.

"No worries." I crawled up onto the bed. "_The Lovely Bones_." I read the title. "It's one of my favourites."

"It seems different." Phantom said, but he was more interested in holding my hand than discussing my favourite book.

The simple gesture made me smile.

"How was school?" he asked me.

"Good news or bad news?" I asked him. "There's actually two bad news. News? Neweses? I don't know. There's a bad news and then another bad news."

"Uh," Phantom was smiling at me. "Bad news, good news, bad news?"

I thought about it. "I'll just tell you. These need to go in a certain order."

"Sure."

"I went to tutor Fenton last night, as you might remember."

Phantom nodded.

"He scared the shit out of me. Sorry, I know I don't usually swear but there's no other way to describe it. He just got so angry. I thought he was going to hurt me."

Phantom swallowed hard and wrapped me in a hug. "He won't hurt you. I promise. So long as you know me, he will never hurt you."

I rested my head on Phantom's shoulder, reveling in how secure he made me feel. "You're sweet." I told him.

"So that was one of the bad things?"

I nodded against him, feeling more relaxed than I had been in a long time. I loved the feeling of being held. "I'm a cheerleader."

Phantom started laughing. He laughed to the point where I had to sit up, cross my arms and ask if he was done.

"I'm sorry," he apologized though he was still snickering. "I was just picturing you as a cheerleader."

"Haha," I threw one of my pillows at him, though he was starting to settle down. "Anything else?"

Phantom looked thoughtful for a moment and then he wiggled his eyebrows in a creepy way. "Wear the uniform for me?"

"Pig," I threw another pillow at him.

Phantom peeked at me over a tiny wall made of two pillows. "I'm guessing that's a no."

"That's a definite no," I confirmed.

"Damn," Phantom sighed. "I'll get to see it on you when you practice anyway." He smirked.

"Because that sentence isn't creepy." I pushed the pillows to the side and climbed back into his embrace.

"Didn't mean it to be creepy." Phantom told me, although I already knew that. "What's the good thing?" He said, switching topics.

"I met a friend." I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice. I felt like a five-year-old coming home from her first day of school.

"Really? Who?"

"Her name is Valerie. She's an unwilling cheerleader like me. She wants to hang out on Friday after cheer practice!"

"Valerie," Phantom repeated the name slowly. "She hangs out with Paullina right?"

"Used to. She used to date the ass hat too! I can't imagine that. She seems so nice! Of course, she said he used to be different but I don't think I believe it. Also, I can't understand why Paullina would still be with someone who cheated on her." I rolled my eyes. "There's so much wrong in there I can't even begin to explain it."

"You know," Phantom was rubbing my arms where goose bumps had appeared, "you sure talk about this guy a lot considering how much you hate him."

"I don't talk about him _a lot_," I scoffed. "Know thy enemy. It might get better on that front though."

"Yeah?" Phantom prompted.

"I don't have to tutor him anymore! If he needs help in school he either has to find someone else or come and beg me to do it. So, if I can keep away from him inside of school there's no more interaction!" I beamed up at Phantom. "Life in Amity is starting to look up."

"Mhmm," Phantom murmured.

I glanced at his face out of the corner of my eye, seeing how his eyes were focused on my lips. My stomach was full of butterflies as I leaned toward him. I was nervous. For the first time _I_ was kissing _him_ instead of the other way around. It may not seem like much but that tiny difference seemed like a huge step.

"You're beautiful," he told me when the kiss ended.

I opened my mouth to reply when my mother called my name.

"What!?" I yelled back.

"Get dressed dear!"

"Dressed? Mother, you can't keep springing these outings on me!" I climbed off the bed and went to the door, opening it so that she would be able to hear me better.

"I have to!" She replied. "Otherwise you would find a way out of it."

I rolled my eyes.

"She's right," Phantom laughed in the background.

"Shut up," I told him.

"Tsk tsk," Phantom shook his finger at me. "Don't be rude."

"Get dressed!" Mother yelled.

"For where?"

"The Sanchez's are hosting a dance tonight! Wear something extremely fancy!"

I slammed the door shut. "Who hosts a dance in the middle of freaking November?" I asked Phantom, who could only shrug.

"You'll have fun," he smiled at me.

"Says the butcher as he leads the lamb to slaughter," I huffed under my breath as I headed for my closet. "What kind of an outfit constitutes as 'extremely fancy' anyway?"

"Dunno," I glanced behind me to see Phantom shrug and gesture at his body, "Maybe you haven't noticed but I have one outfit."

"Sometimes I think you're lucky for that." I slipped into my walk-in closet.

I hadn't even noticed Phantom had followed me in until he said, "Down the rabbit hole!"

"Alice In Wonderland? Hm." I began to flip through the fancy dresses in my closet. "Not quite."

"Are you going to be okay?" Phantom asked. "It is Paullina party."

I let out a breath. "Trying not to think too much on that fact. I'm hoping that I can melt into the background and no one will even know I was there."

"What's the point in that?" Phantom asked. "I don't know how you see it, but to me that would be letting them win. If you go in there looking beautiful and confident then how can they fight that?"

"I'm _not_ beautiful or confident," I corrected. "And if you're saying I can steal the spotlight away from Paullina well, that's just complete B.S."

"It's not. And whether or not you believe me, Sam, you are beautiful. You just don't see it. And if you can't use your own confidence in you, use my confidence in you."

"I can't compete with her," I protested again.

"It's not a competition," Phantom kissed my cheek. "You've already won."

I felt a blush steal across my cheeks. "You think it'll work?"

"Dazzle 'em into submission," he assured me.

"All right." I reached in and grabbed one of the dresses. "I'll go get changed."

"Can't wait to see," he called as I closed the bathroom door.

I pulled the long dress out of its garment bag. The dress was a bright teal colour with silver crystals glimmering along the lone spaghetti strap, as well as along the top of the breast cups and on gashes along my left side like an animal had clawed the side of the gown. I shuddered. Or a dragon ghost had clawed the gown.

I pushed the thoughts aside and slipped into the gown. Mother had it tailored to fit when we were still in New Orleans. My body shape hadn't seemed to have changed since then. The dress still clung to my sides, emphasizing my usually not noticeable curves. It pushed up my breasts giving me more than my b cup. I fished the silver heels out of my garment bag and put them on. There was a slit in the side of the flowing fabric so that combined with the heels gave my legs and endless appearance.

I was just reaching for my make-up when Mother called for me again.

"We leave in fifteen minutes!" She warned.

I gave myself a light smoky eye and put on a soft pink lipstick – almost nude. I did my hair up into milkmaid braids, put diamond studs into my ears and a thin silver chain around my neck. I did one last mirror check and slipped out to my room.

It felt like Halloween night except this time Phantom was completely obvious about checking me out.

"Wow." He gasped. "I told you that you could put them all to shame."

"You haven't seen the competition," I replied.

"There is no competition," he reminded me, making me blush and grin. "If you're talking about the other girls, I think you're forgetting that I do know who these girls are."

I squinted at him. "I never thought of you knowing them, actually." As I thought of it, another realization washed over me. "Did you know Fenton when you were alive?"

Phantom looked at me. "Sam – " he began really slowly. "There's something about Fenton that you need to know."

"Yeah?" I prompted.

"Look, he … That is I –"

"Samantha! Time to go!" Mother yelled, interrupting him.

"OKAY!" I turned back to Phantom. "What was it you were going to say?"

"It can wait. No need to make your mother angry," he kissed my lips, softly, some of my pink lipstick coming off on him. "Don't forget, you are more beautiful than anyone else there."

"You know, you're pretty cute yourself." I said with a wink. He turned an amusing shade of red. "See you after?"

"I'll be waiting."

I slipped out to the garage. "Samantha, when I say we're leaving I mean that –" Mother turned to look at me. "Oh my god."

"What?" I glanced down at myself. Did I do something to the dress?

"You look so grown up," I could swear there were tears blossoming in my mother's eyes. "You look like a lady."

"Thank you?" I phrased it as a question, unused to getting compliments from my mother.

"Let's go," Mother said in a more welcoming tone.

"Sure," I climbed in the passenger seat and waited for Mother to turn the car on, but she didn't.

Slowly, she reached out to brush my cheek, almost as though she couldn't believe I was her daughter. "You look so beautiful, baby." She told me. There were definitely tears in her eyes; they were rolling down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Mom."

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to _Foreversky _for being a beta!**

**~TLL~  
**


	15. Chapter 15

I watched the scenery flash by the windows of the car, trying to swallow the lump forming in my throat before we arrived at the dance. I had never fit into my mother's world and I had long ago accepted that. I didn't look like either of my parents – not that my mother cheated, I simply looked more like my grandmother – and I didn't want to act like either of them. I don't hate my parents, I could have gotten a lot worse, but we tended to stay out of each other's way as much as we could.

That being said, it was the first time in my life that my mother had ever looked at me like that. It was the first time my mother had ever looked at me like she knew me, not just lived with me, and shared her blood with me. It was the first time I had seen pride in my mother's eyes, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. On one hand, I felt ecstatic that she had called me beautiful, had looked at me with tear stained eyes. Yet, on the other hand, I'd had to don a pretty dress and dive into her world to do so.

Emotions are complicated things.

I don't like dealing with them.

Fortunately, though unfortunately at the same time, we had arrived at our destination. The Sanchez mansion was decorated to the nines on the outside, though it was much too cold for anyone to stand outside and appreciate the sight. Mother pulled up to the front, gracefully floated out of the car and gave the keys to a valet in a tuxedo. I gaped in wonder at the home, amazed at the elegant transformation it had undergone. While always a point of beauty, there was something especially mystical about the way the home looked now. It felt less like a simple dance and more like an old fashioned ball with modern clothing. Most of the men were clad in pristine tuxedos like the valet while most of the women were in stylish gowns like me.

Paullina, though, always had to stand out. She was wearing a strapless, body hugging, mini dress. As though the sexy garment didn't stand out in the sea of elegance as it was, the dress was shiny. She resembled a disco ball – something that may have looked ridiculous on other people (me) but it was something that Paullina carried off very well. She looked as though she were clad in mirrors and diamonds. Her hair was grasped into a high pony tail, showing off the dress to its full potential.

Mother strode into the ballroom (which was where Phantom had found me drunk at the Halloween party) leaving me cowering in the entrance. I suddenly doubted my choice of a dress. I was arrogant to think I could try to outshine the crowd of teenaged beauties. I should have gone with a simple black dress, something that would help me hide in the shadows until Mother was willing to take me home. My breath sped up and caught in my throat. I was fully prepared to turn around and flee when Phantom's voice sounded in my mind.

_"And whether or not you believe me, Sam, you are beautiful. You just don't see it. And if you can't use your own confidence in you, use my confidence in you."_

My mother's voice followed his, _"You look so beautiful, baby."_

I took Phantom's words to heart, letting the words and their confidence to flow in me, to seep into my bones. I drew myself up to my full height, which, even with the heels, wasn't a hell of a lot and walked into the room. Unlike the movies, I didn't feel the attention had suddenly shifted to the geek-turned-beauty who strode in the room. That, though, would make sense. I was not a beauty, nor was I much of a geek. I was simply Sam whether I was a Goth or wearing a pretty dress.

I weaved through the crowd, heading to the refreshment table, reaching for the punch.

"Let me pour you a glass," a smooth male voice broke over me, his hand stretching out to bat my outstretched one away.

I turned in confusion, my eyes meeting the bright green ones of Tucker – Fenton's friend who had previously been just as mean as Fenton.

"Uh, thank you?" I couldn't help that it came out as a question. There was no venom in my voice, no sarcasm. I was just baffled. Tucker had no reason to be nice to me, pretty dress or if it was the dress, I would be beyond angry, though I knew how superficial the whole group was.

"You are welcome." Tucker placed a cup of punch in my hand. "Sam, right?"

"I thought you called me Goth loser." The bitterness definitely leaked out that time. I also wanted to run away from the awkward atmosphere. I couldn't believe I had just said that to him. As if I needed to give him another reason to make fun of me. I could practically hear him in my head_ 'Good, you know your place'_.

"Oh," Tucker said softly. "Look, it's high school. Shit like that doesn't mean anything."

"Except when it does." I retorted.

"Fair enough," Tucker nodded. "But I want to apologize for being an ass. I don't mean anything by it, really."

He offered me his hand. I looked down at it, thoroughly offended.

"Really? You think you can apologize to me and that will make everything you said to me disappear? Life doesn't work that way. It especially doesn't work that way when I know you're apologizing to my face but in school when you and Fenton see me walking down the hall, you'll be insulting the same face you apologized to tonight. I can't accept your apology."

I put the punch down on the table, turning away from him.

"Tucker!" I heard the high pitched voice of Starr sound from behind me as I walked away. "Why were you just talking to her?"

"Gotta play with the losers, Starr," Tucker replied, as I knew he would.

I tried not to think about his attempt of an apology. Maybe I would talk about it with Phantom later but for now I was trying to think of a way to survive the evening. I had been here for not even twenty minutes and I was already bored. I sat in one of the plush chairs that lined the walls and silently wished that Phantom was here with me. I would've even liked Valerie to be here though I knew she wouldn't be. Valerie was the one person Paullina hated me more than me, and she had a valid reason to dislike Valerie. I still had no idea what Paullina had against me.

I sighed, feeling my chest deflate with my heavy breath. As I always did when I was bored, I turned to people watching. And the first person I saw entering was Fenton with Jazz on his arm. This time, it was like the movies. I could feel the room shift to look at the siblings, and as they descended into the crowd, I could clearly see the similarities in their faces. Jazz leaned to Fenton's ear, stretching her neck as she said something. He nodded, though his expression seemed to cloud. He then released Jazz to go to Paullina, who practically jumped on him.

I rolled my eyes at the display.

"Excuse me?" A male voice sounded on my left.

I looked. There was a scrawny boy with light blond hair staring at me.

"Yes?" I replied. He didn't look like the type to bully. He looked like the type to be bullied.

"Do you wanna dance?"

His voice hadn't dropped yet.

"Oh." I said, slightly shocked. "I, um, have a boyfriend."

The boy frowned. "Where is he?"

"He's not from here," I replied. "But I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we danced as friends."

The boy offered me his arm. "My name is Mikey," he told me.

"Sam," I replied, now standing. With my heels on, I was the same height as Mikey was.

The song was a slow number. Mikey placed his hands on my waist, staying a respectable distance from me. We swayed to the music. In front of me, behind Mikey, Paullina was practically mating with Fenton on the dance floor. He was looking over her head, glaring at me. Would I never escape him?

I focused on Mikey instead. "Do you go to Casper?"

He shook his head. "The bullying was pretty bad there," he swallowed nervously. "I've been homeschooled for the past two years."

"That's horrible," I exclaimed. "I mean, not the homeschooled part. The bullying part." I didn't mention that it had happened to me.

Mikey shrugged. "I think the worst part is Danny Fenton. He used to try to protect me from people like Dash. Now he's worse than Dash."

I had to stifle my shock. Fenton, a protector? I couldn't see it. Fenton didn't have a good bone in his body. I tried to see the best in everyone, I could even find good in Paullina, but I couldn't see anything good in Fenton. Not. A. Single. Thing.

The song ended.

Mikey let go.

"See you around." He ducked his head down and disappeared into the crowd.

Poor Mikey. He seemed scared of everything.

I turned to go back to my seat, but I was grabbed around the waist. Before I could fight back, or even process what was going on, I was chest to chest with Fenton. He had me pulled so tightly against him that I could feel every breath of his, every heartbeat. His large hands were gripping my hips to the point where I felt tears spring into my eyes.

"What do you want?" I snapped, panic setting in. I needed to get out of here, needed to run.

"You need to tutor me again," Fenton said roughly.

"How about no?" I rolled my eyes, trying to step away but his grip tightened. Despite myself, I let out a whimper. He didn't seem to notice, his eyes busy, flicking from place to place and I felt as though Fenton were holding back some sort of anger.

"Jazz said I have to get you back." Fenton's blue eyes focused on mine. "Tutor me at my house and I'll let you go." His face twisted into an unnatural looking expression.

"Fine. Tutoring. Your house. Two hours. Tuesdays and Thursdays."

Fenton let go of me, like he promised, melting back into the crowd.

I stumbled away from where we had been standing. I stumbled straight into the arms of Paullina.

"Watch it slut," she snapped.

"Slut?" I cried, outraged. "Look in the mirror lately?"

Maybe it was bad that I felt slightly confident in this dress. It was making me mouthier than usually.

"Listen," Paullina flicked her hair, trying to look seductive and intimidating at the same time. "Danny is mine. I know you're in love with him, but no one will ever take him from me."

"Bull_shit_!" I shook my head at her. "I am not in love with him. And I know just as well as you do that while he won't sleep with you he had sex with someone else."

Paullina's glare deepened. "I am not someone to be messed with," she threatened. "I can make your life a living hell."

"You already do!" I shouted, knowing that I wouldn't even be heard over the loud music. "You can threaten me with your worst, Paullina, but I don't see how it would be any different than now. You can call me anything you want but it won't make you into what you want to be. I feel bad for you." My mouth opened, poised for more words, but none came. "I feel bad for you," I repeated.

I went to walk away, knowing that it was the best option. I was going to pay for what I said, I knew that, but what I said was also the truth. I did feel bad for Paullina. In a way, I thought that she might be like me. Her parents had a vision for her. My parents had a vision for me. This was where our paths differed. Paullina was fighting tooth and nail to be better than that image whereas I was content to ignore it.

I felt Paullina's sharp nails dig into my arms. I yelped.

"You haven't seen my worst, bitch."

**Thanks to _Foreversky_ for being a beta for this story. I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	16. Chapter 16

I stumbled away from Paullina, desperately trying to hide in the crowd. I wished that my dress didn't sparkle or dazzle in anyway. I couldn't hide. The colours of my dress were too bright and it seemed everywhere I turned Paullina was standing there, or Fenton, or Starr, or Tucker or someone, even a stranger, who wanted going to tear me down. I regretted ever wearing this stupid dress that made me feel better about myself. If I had just worn black I could stand in that shadowy corner and never be noticed.

As it turned out, I found myself standing aimlessly on the dance floor, looking to leave. I could see my mother gripping a martini and chatting up a storm. I knew there was no way she would want to leave now. As childish as it was, I felt like I was going to cry. It was too much to handle; everyone hated me, how rotten way I felt in my own skin, how trapped I felt in this small town. I glanced around me at all the people – teenagers and adults – and wished I didn't know any of them. The only thing good about Amity was Phantom but he wasn't here.

I took a step toward my mother, hoping to see if there was a chance I could take the car and go home. She could probably get a lift from someone else. I took a quivering step, my legs feeling like jelly in my high heels. Before I could get too much further, I felt a firm hand on my forearm. I flinched and pulled my arm away as I turned to face whoever had touched me.

"Hi," Dash said softly, so softly I could barely hear him.

"Hi," I responded.

"Look, I need to ask something of you, from you …" he stumbled over his words, his brow almost reaching his nose with his frown. "I have a question."

"Shoot," I replied, my voice feeling as shaky as he sounded.

"I need you to stop hurting Paullina," he blurted out.

My jaw dropped. My mind raced to process the implications of what he was saying while my mouth spouted, "and where's the question?"

"Why are you hurting Paullina?" he asked. "I am in love with her and I feel like it's my duty to protect her. I know that she isn't always the greatest person, but I still love her. And I thought you were all right, I really did, but then I start hearing all these things that you've done to her and she really doesn't deserve that."

"I-" it came out as a squeak. I didn't know how to respond to that, I had no idea if it was worth responding to. One, I had no idea what he was talking about and, two, me do something to Paullina? As if. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to be angry at Dash. Like he had said, he was in love with her and I didn't blame him for wanting to find out why someone was hurting her, though it wasn't me. Still, I was outraged because in order for Dash to think I was hurting Paullina, she would've had to say something.

"Well?" Dash pushed. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I," I admitted. "If I did something to Paullina," I couldn't believe I was saying these words, "then I am sorry, I didn't mean to. You can tell her that."

Dash glanced over his shoulder. "Will you dance with me?"

"I was just on my way out," I stuttered. I didn't want to dance with Dash. I just wanted to go home.

"Mom said that I need to dance with someone other than Paullina. So, please? It would make her happy." He tried to offer me a small smile.

How could I refuse someone who was asking for their mother? "One dance," I responded sternly, taking his hand as he held it out.

"Did you really mean it?" he asked, holding me closer than Mikey dared but not as startling near as Fenton. "About being sorry to Paullina?"

As far as I'm concerned, I have nothing to be sorry to Paullina for. I was also, however, coming to realize that Amity was a game, revolving around the teenagers. I was now a player, a villain, in fact. I was the biggest threat to the queen and she was sending out her army. I might be tempted to compare it to chess, if I knew how to play.

"Look, I don't know what you think is happening between Paullina and me," I shook my head as I spoke, "but if I did something I have to apologize for, I do."

"I guess I can accept that." He looked at me sadly. "Should I let her go?"

I leaned away in surprise. "I don't understand; why are you asking me this?"

"Because I think you do understand." His eyes softened, his light blue eyes looking even lighter. "Why should I keep on loving her when she'll never love me?" I was shocked to see he was crying.

"How do you know she doesn't love you?" I asked.

"I can tell," Dash looked even more broken than he was two sentences ago. "People think I don't see it, but I do. She uses people. She will walk all over somebody in order to get what she wants, what that is, I'm not totally sure. But, she stands next to Fenton because he's as perfect as she can get right now. He's got money, looks, and he's good at sports; he's what I used to be before he came along. But, he won't sleep with her, so I do. She'll text me late at night and because I am so _goddamn pathetic, _I go. Why do I do that?"

"Maybe you should try to look at someone else the way you do Paullina," I suggested. Who was I to be giving romantic advice? All I did was read romance novels and hold Phantom's hand with like four kisses passed between us. An advice guru, I am not.

"I'm trying. But there is no one. I try to look at someone who is sort of like her, and then a girl who isn't anything like her and it doesn't work."

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't ask for your advice so you could be sorry," suddenly Dash's voice roared and he looked incredibly angry. His grip tightened and it felt more lethal than Fenton's. "I asked for you advice so you could help me! WHY CAN'T YOU HELP ME?!"

"Dash, wait, we're still talking," I began to stammer as I felt him lift me off my feet. "What are you doing?" I screeched, writhing in his grasp.

"You were supposed to help me!" With that, Dash threw me.

I didn't have time to scream between the time he let go of me and the time I hit the ground. I landed at Tucker's feet, my head aching from where it had hit the hardwood floor and bounced. I glanced up as someone jumped over me, but even the simple movement made my head ache and I saw dark black spots.

"Mrs. Manson!" I heard someone yell, someone who might have been Jazz. "Mrs. Manson! Your daughter!"

The black spots began to grow across my vision. I looked up through my fading vision to see my mother rushing for me. I saw Dash on the edge of my vision, blood spewing out of his nose. Did I do that? I don't think I did. What happened –

I couldn't even finish my thought as I blanked out.

(-.-)

For the second time in Amity, I woke up from unconsciousness in my own bed. I let my eyes drift shut again.

"No, no, no." There was a shock of cold against my cheek and I threw my eyes open. My head ached from the simple fluttering of my eyelids. I looked up at Phantom's pale face. "You can't go close your eyes," he told me softly. "I was here when the doctor explained it to your mother. You have a bad concussion. The doctor said that when you open your eyes again to keep you awake."

"It hurts," I whined. "It really, really hurts."

"I know." He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "But stay awake for me okay?"

"Keep me awake, okay?" I responded.

"Challenge accepted."

"You said that about scaring me," I reminded him.

"I'll get to that," Phantom moved so that he was lying next to me. I put my head on his arm. The cold feeling felt good on my head, a quick method for resolving the pain.

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled, feeling my eyes close.

"Stay awake," Phantom poked me in the side.

"Mmph." I responded, weakly swatting at him.

"So, why don't you tell me how you got the concussion?" Phantom's concern leaked through his voice.

"Dash Baxter," I said. "He threw me across the floor at the dance."

"Why?" Phantom's voice went tight.

"He wanted me to help him with Paullina," I struggled to think back to those few moments before I fell unconscious. "Because he's in love with her and she's dating Fenton."

"Hey, hey," Phantom jostled me slightly. "I feel like I'm losing you."

"No, you're not." My voice felt kind of slurred. "But what Fenton doesn't know is that Dash is having sex with Paullina."

"Dramatic," Phantom said dryly. "But that doesn't explain why he hurt you."

"He was just mad, I guess."

"I'm going to kill him," Phantom said matter-of-factly.

"Don't, don't," I urged him. "Just leave him alone."

"Why should I?" Phantom demanded. "He hurt you, I should get to hurt him back."

"An eye for an eye makes the world go blind," I quoted. "Don't, okay? I'll just stay away from him like I do for the rest of them."

"I just need you to be safe," Phantom leaned over me, kissing my lips.

"Whatever would make you think I'm not safe?" I asked him. "It's not like I've ever been injured in Amity, or have multiple enemies in the form of evil, popular teenagers .. oh, wait."

"Sarcasm, that's good."

"Are you being sarcastic?" I asked in return. No one had ever told me that my sarcasm was a good thing before.

"No, I just mean that if you're being sarcastic you must be feeling a little better." He explained.

"No," I corrected, "my brain is numb from your arm."

"Oh!" Phantom exclaimed. "Am I freezing you? Here, I'll go get another blanket."

"No," I repeated, grabbing the side of his spandex. "It feels nice."

I felt Phantom settle again. "If you say so."

"I do say so," I snuggled into his side. "Can I go to sleep?"

"No," Phantom told me. "Sorry."

"Five minutes," I pleaded. "Just five, please?"

"Sorry," he shook his head.

"Come on!" I pouted.

"Here," Phantom took my hand. "Thumb war."

"I always win at that," I told him. "It wouldn't be fair to you. So, in the spirit of fairness, you should let me go to sleep."

"You can't beat me," Phantom boasted.

"One round," I conceded.

Together we chanted, "One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war." I felt as though I were a child again, watching the other children battle each other at recess. If I was to be completely honest, I had never played thumb war with anyone. I was undefeated because I had never played against anyone but myself.

Quickly, Phantom's gloved thumb flashed out and pinned mine.

"Hey!" I protested. "That's not fair."

"I thought you were unbeatable," he smirked.

"I am," I looked down at my thumb. "You're just supernatural and freaky and all that. Plus, this is my non-dominant hand."

"Right," Phantom rolled so he was on the opposite side of me. I mewled as he moved my head. "Well, now let me take your dominant hand."

I looked down at his right hand. "But isn't that your dominant hand too?" I asked, cluing in.

Phantom smirked _again_. "I'm a lefty," he told me.

I frowned. How did I not notice that? "All right," I reached out to take his hand when I noticed something. I wasn't completely unobservant. "What is on your knuckles?"

I pulled his hand closer. "They're _green_." Well, the glove covering his knuckles were green. "What happened?"

"I got into a fight, with a ghost," Phantom said slowly. "I hit them with my right hand because my left was holding it around the neck and this is just ectoplasm from that wound."

"Wound?" I questioned. "You can get hurt? And what the hell is ecoplasm?"

"_Ecto_plasm," Phantom corrected. "And yeah, I heal really fast though. Ectoplasm is like the ghost equivalent of blood. It's green."

I kept staring at his hand, unusually troubled by the fact that Phantom could be wounded.

**Thank you to my betas: foreversky. I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~  
**


	17. Chapter 17

"Hey," Phantom frowned, "what's wrong?"

"I . . ." I thought about it for a moment before deciding shut my mouth. "It's nothing."

"It's obviously something," Phantom pushed gently. "C'mon, Sam, why do you look so upset?"

"I already told you, it's nothing." I rolled onto my side so that I was facing away from him, focusing on the white of his glove instead. My headache pounded along worsened as I tried to stop my tears. I didn't even know why I wanted to cry for goodness sake! I was turning into one of _those_ girls, who whine and cry over _everything_.

Those girls annoyed me.

"Why are you turning away from me?" Phantom reached over and brushed my hair behind my ear, trying to see my face. I attempted to bury it into his spandex. "Sam?" he said my name in a hushed tone. "What's wrong?"

"It's stupid," I told him, because it really was. I felt like I wanted to cry and the reason was irrational, petty, and stupid. I didn't want to tell him.

"If you're upset then it obviously isn't stupid," he moved so that he was leaning over me, the outline of his body taunt against mine as he tried to meet my eyes while keeping his cool arm under me.

"People get upset over stupid things all the time," I retorted.

"Well, yeah," Phantom rolled his eyes, "but I didn't say people. I said you."

"I can't be stupid sometimes?" I asked him. "That's some pretty high expectations for me."

"Just tell me!" He pleaded, "Please, babe?"

I sucked in a breath at the moniker, not because it annoyed me, far from it, in fact. He said 'babe' in the sweetest way, and I was struck by how much I cared for him and how he could show me how he cared about me by how he said a simple pet name. I never thought anyone would call me 'babe' and, before Phantom had, I had been against pet names on principal.

I had instantly warmed to them.

"I told you," I was still resisting voicing my pettiness, "it's nothing."

"Sam," he half-whined it and I gave in.

"It's stupid," I warned him again, "but I thought you told me you couldn't get hurt."

Phantom frowned, his hair falling into his eyes. "That's what was bothering you?"

"I told you it was stupid!" I defended myself, though I didn't feel like I was going to cry anymore.

"It's not stupid," Phantom kissed my cheek. "It's cute that you were worrying about me."

"I never said I worried about you!" I exclaimed.

"Didn't have too," he smirked. "And I don't remember telling you that I couldn't get hurt."

"I thought you did," I replied. "I always thought that you were invincible; some kind of superman." I twisted around and touched his knuckles. "Guess I was wrong."

"_If I could be your superman, flying to the stars, and back again, cause every time you touch my hand, and you feel my powers, running through your veins, but I can only write this song, and tell you, that I'm not that strong, cause I'm no superman, I hope you like me as I am._" Phantom sang softly in my ear, smiling as he connected the lyrics to what I had said

"You know that song?" I gasped. "It's one of my favourites!"

"Mine too," Phantom admitted, "and I hope you realize that just because I get a little scratch doesn't mean I'm gonna die tomorrow, or that I can't protect you, because I can. And I will. I know that you don't need it, that you aren't helpless, but I'll still do it nonetheless."

"You're cute," I reached my hand up to his cheek, bringing his face to mine for a kiss.

As it ended, we cuddled back under my blanket. I pulled the soft comforter around my chin and tried not to bring attention to the fact that I was trying to go to sleep. As my eyes were drifting shut, a thought occurred to me. My eyes fluttered open. "Wait!" I exclaimed.

"Sam?" Phantom question. "What?"

"Superman," I said, naming the song he had sang part of to me.

"I don't understand," Phantom said slowly. "You're going to need to explain this to me."

"That song is less than three years old," I obliged him and explained my realization. "How did you hear it, if you were already gone?"

"Oh," Phantom shrugged. "I hear radios and stuff. As you noticed, I'm solid. I can turn on a radio if I find it."

"Hm," I replied, still finding it strange that he had known the song. I didn't have time to say anything though, because I heard approaching footsteps.

"I'd better go," Phantom started to pull his arm out from under my head.

"No!" I gasped, my head feeling a thousand times worse as it became even the least bit warmer.

"Um, I don't think it would be a good idea for your mother to find us in bed," Phantom told me slowly.

"Can't you go invisible?" I begged. "Please, for my head."

Phantom's eyes softened and a grin graced his lips. "You're needy when you don't feel good," he told me, doing as I asked.

It felt strange. I could feel his arm under my head, feel his body running against mine, but I couldn't see him. I couldn't reach out and brush my hand through his hair because I couldn't see where his hair was.

"Sammywammy?" Mother opened the door. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," I tried to sound tired, like I had just woken up, "what happened?"

"Some boy threw you across the floor at the dance!" Mother exclaimed, coming to my side. "I thought the Baxter's were respectable people! Their son seemed so nice!"

"Dash," I said his name as Mother swept a hand across my forehead.

"Yes, yes," she dismissed. "You feel awfully cold, Samantha."

"Uh," I responded.

"No matter," Mother continued on, "the doctor said that ice should be put on your head if necessary. She was here earlier and said that I should check for these things when you woke up," She pulled out a piece of paper with a flourish. "Unconsciousness," she read. "Well, that already happened. Dr. Higgins said that, after you wake up if you still felt drowsy after an hour or two we should take you in. Do you feel drowsy right now?"

"A little," I admitted, "but I feel like my head is clearing." It was true, I wasn't fighting for sleep like I had been a few minutes ago.

"Good!" She scanned the list, "How about mental confusion? Where are you?"

"In my room, in Amity Park where we moved to a few months ago. My name is Samantha Manson and I am seventeen years old. You are my mother and my father still lives in New Orleans."

"Right," Mother nodded. "You obviously have no problems with speaking or understanding. Are you feeling any weakness in any limbs?"

I flexed. "Not really."

"Okay, how is your eyesight?"

"Same as always."

"Headache?"

"Subsiding little by little."

"We should keep an eye on that. Vomiting?"

"None."

"Fits or seizures?"

"Obviously not."

"Clear fluid coming out of your ears or nose?"

"I don't think so." I held still as Mother checked my nose and then both ears.

"Nothing. No bleeding either. Any deafness?"

"Hearing you loud and clear."

"The last thing is loss of balance and problems walking. Have you stood up yet?"

"No," I answered.

"Get up and cross the room," she ordered.

I groaned and sat up slowly, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. I dug my toes into the carpet and lurched to my feet. I felt perfectly balanced – well, as balanced as I usually felt when I went from horizontal to vertical. I stomped across the room and back, Mother watching every mood I made.

"Perfect!" She exclaimed. "Since everything's good, I'm going to bed, dear."

"Goodnight, Mother." I told her.

"Night, doll." She placed the piece of paper on my nightstand. "Check for these things again when you get up in the morning, okay?"

"Whatever you say," I conceded.

She blew me a kiss as she breezed out of my room. As soon as I heard the click of the door, I turned over and Phantom materialized.

"You look confused," I observed, running a hand across his features.

"I am," he admitted.

"About what?"

"Your father."

His response took me completely by surprise. Why would Phantom be confused about my father? Why would he be concerned about my father at all? I didn't even bother with him. My only interaction with him was when it was necessary for me to smile and pretend like he had been a good father to me.

"What? Why?"

"I thought he was dead," Phantom met my eyes, "but you just said he was living in New Orleans."

"Because he is," I said slowly. "And I never said he was dead." It sounded oddly like something I had said before, about how he had said he couldn't be wounded when in fact he never had.

"You never mentioned him before," Phantom thought, "So I just assumed that he was dead."

"When you assume you make an ass out of you and me," I quoted to him.

"So why did he stay there when you guys moved here?"

"That's not important," I said, feeling like a broken record.

"I think it is." Phantom rested his head against mine, giving my head an extra burst of coldness. "I want to know all about you. I think it's all important."

I could think of a few things that he wouldn't want to know. "Kind of hypocritical don't you think?" I said, trying to distract him. "You say you want to know me but you don't tell me much about your human life."

"Fair enough." Phantom nodded. "I'll tell you something if you explain your Dad to me."

"Okay," I sighed. "My family, obviously, has money. This comes from an invention from my grandfather. Anyway, the largest factory is in New Orleans, which my Dad oversees. When Mother and I moved from New Orleans he couldn't leave his job so he stayed behind. He said that he would come see us for Christmas."

"Oh," Phantom bit his lip in understanding. "What do you want to know about my human life?"

"What was your full name?"

Phantom froze. I could feel his body go stiff next to mine. "Sam," he brushed his hand against my face, and I saw his eyes go wide. "Oh, Sam." He shook his head, his hair falling into his face, obscuring his most prominent features. "I can't tell you that."

"Why?" I pushed. "What does it matter if I want to know your name? It seems pretty important to me."

"You know my name," Phantom replied. "It's Danny."

"Full names are different."

"Sam," he took my hand and tightened his fingers around mine. "Please, don't ask me that."

"Tell me why," I demanded.

"I don't want you to look me up," Phantom admitted. "I don't want you to see me as a human because that isn't who I am with you. I am a ghost and it can't change."

"I guess I can understand that," I said reluctantly.

And I did, I honestly did understand it. It didn't mean that I wasn't bothered by it, because I was. It felt like he didn't trust me and that hurt. Because I trusted him more than I had ever trusted anyone else. I wanted him to feel as comfortable with me as I did him, and he might feel comfortable with me, but I didn't get that feeling from him. I just felt like I couldn't be trusted and it hurt.

"You can ask another question," Phantom smiled gently at me.

"Will you tell me your birthday?"

"You won't believe me," Phantom said.

"Why wouldn't I believe you about your birthday?" I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

"It's Valentine's Day," he told me.

"Aww, that's cute!" I gushed.

"Like you," he responded in deep, seductive tones.

I smiled as he leaned down to kiss me.

**The song lyrics quoted by Phantom are from the song '**_**Superman'**_** sung by **_**'Joe Brooks'**_**. Thanks to _foreversky_ for betaing. I own nothing recognizable. Check out the poll for this story on my profile! Will be closed when the story ends!**

**~TLL~**


	18. Chapter 18

It was the sun that woke me. I was banished from school for the next week (with the exception of cheerleading practice on Friday) so I was feeling wonderful. My room was warm, the sun was beautiful and I felt fully rested. I stretched out, pulling my blankets up around my shoulders. The weight of the sheets settled over me and I couldn't help but smile.

"You look cute when you wake up."

The voice startled me into a sitting position. "Phantom!" I exclaimed, quickly brushing my hair out of my eyes whilst worrying about my morning breath. "Why are you here?"

"Nice to see I'm appreciated," Phantom rolled his eyes and began to descend from his floating position.

"I-I just mean," I stuttered, trying to sort out exactly what I meant in my head, "you're never here in the mornings. You always leave before I wake up. And how is it so warm with you in here?"

"Questions, questions," Phantom sighed.

"There was one question in there!" I scoffed. "Okay, two if you count the first one. I have asked you two questions today."

"That's a lot of questions." Phantom said, making his way to the end of the bed.

"Do you have a lot of answers?" I asked.

"Uhm, well, I have nowhere else to go. I might as well be here with you," he flashed me a bright smile. "And I turned the heat up. You started shivering around five a.m. Also, your mother left."

"Left? Where did she go?" I had never really considered my mother's life before. I knew she had a healthy, thriving social life – like M.A.P. and all of her friends – but I had never really thought about what she did all day when I was at school.

"I don't know." Phantom shrugged. "Does it matter where your Mom is when you're alone with me all day?" He flexed his arms and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"You play with your eyebrows a lot," I observed.

"Uh, what?"

I blushed. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"I _play_ with my _eyebrows_?" Phantom repeated slowly with a bewildered expression. "How do I _play_ with my _eyebrows?_"

"You're always moving and wiggling them and stuff." I explained. "How do you not notice?"

"It's my face. I'm not hyperaware of my face." He smiled lightly. "I'm hyperaware of your face."

I giggled. "What?"

"Your face," he reached out, cradling my cheek as the chills ran up and down my spine, "it's beautiful."

"You keep saying that, but it's still not true." I smiled into his hand.

"You keep saying that, but it's still not true," Phantom repeated, putting an entirely new meaning on the phrase.

"Shut up," I told him, shoving him in the shoulder.

"Or what?" He demanded, moving his eyebrows at me _again_.

"Or … or …" I grappled for a reply, "or I'll kiss you." Probably not the most effective reply.

"In that case I'll keep talking!" Point proven.

But, I had to keep my promises. As I had told him, I leaned forward, kissing his lips. I felt him smile as my lips brushed against his. His hands went to my hips– and I don't know how this happened – but we were now lying on the bed, him on top of me. I could feel his knees on the outside of my legs as he kept his weight off me. He was brushing his hands everywhere (nowhere inappropriate, but I felt like I could still feel him in those parts of my body) , across my collarbone, up and down my arms, across my face and over my stomach. I didn't quite know what to do with my hands, I wasn't thinking. He was touching me and I was so wrapped up in kissing him that I didn't want to think about what to do with my stupid hands. One ended up going to the back of his head and through his bright white hair. The other was across his back, pushing him closer to me.

I don't know how long we remained like that. I was caught up in a whirlwind of him. There was the way his body glided along mine, and the way I reacted to it. There was the way his lips could caress, bite, seduce and conquer all at the same time. There was the way his hair felt under my left palm and the way I could feel his back muscles moving under my right. The thing that I felt the most though, despite the hormones raging under my skin and the excitement of being kissed so thoroughly, was the moment in the middle (or what might have been the middle) and it was a feeling I'm not able to describe (though if I had, my vocabulary would be limited to the word _soft_) and that feeling radiated from his smile. In the middle of kissing me and holding me he _smiled_.

I don't even know what to make of that. Except that it made me smile too. It made my entire body fizz and feel like it was about to bubble over with happiness. It was like I could feel all of those little bubbles in my veins, in my blood. They were darting around in my body, whizzing along with the beat of my rapidly pounding heart. I couldn't think of anything better than this moment, right now. He was holding me tightly to him, kissing me slowly, and I could feel his smile still plastered on his lips, feeding into the smile plastered onto mine.

He gave me one last kiss – I could feel the gentle suck on my lip as he pulled away. Phantom looked into my eyes and I was fascinated by how just how many shades of green could be captured in one eye. I burst into laughter.

"What so funny?" Phantom asked, his brow creasing. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No!" I gasped. "You're just so cute it makes me smile."

"You are the cutest girlfriend in the entire world," Phantom told me. "I don't know how I got so lucky."

"Well I can assure it's not because of your money," I joked.

"Hmmm," Phantom thought, "that just leaves my looks!"

I pretended to study him. "Nah," I dismissed his idea. "It's definitely your personality!"

"You already said I was cute today," Phantom reminded me. "You can't hide behind your stinging jabs right now." He smiled. "You adore me."

"Fine, fine," I chuckled, still unable to take my eyes off of him. "I adore you."

He kissed the tip of my nose. "I adore you, too."

I reached both my hands around his waist, holding him closer to me. He rolled so that he was no longer on top of me. Instead, he was lying next to me, holding me against his chest. I rolled my head against him.

"This is amazing," I murmured.

"Mmm," Phantom agreed. "You should stay home from school more often."

"If only I could get out of my after school activities too," I mused.

"Are you being made to do your after school stuff?" He asked.

"I can probably get out of tutoring this week," I decided. "But not cheerleading."

"At least Fenton won't be making you upset."

"Very true," I agreed, when I remembered something. "Were you going to tell me something about Fenton before I left for the dance?"

Phantom suddenly went very, very still. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play that," I frowned. "You told me there was something I needed to know about Fenton before I left for the dance but then Mother called me down. What did you want to tell me?"

"I don't think it's important." Phantom said.

"You always say that!" I growled, slightly frustrated. "You always say you want me to understand about things but you never give me a chance to understand them!"

"Don't get angry," Phantom soothed.

I'm not angry. I'm just frustrated. I want to understand him the way I want him to understand me.

"Just tell me," I insisted.

"Look, I just wanted to tell you what he was like before I died. But I don't know if you would appreciate it."

"What do you mean by that?" I questioned slowly.

"I just mean that you seem so hell bent on hating him and I just don't think you want me to talk about his life to you."

"I have perfectly good reasons for hating him!" I exclaimed. "You know what he's done to hurt me. I can't _stand him_."

"I'm not trying to justify what he's done," Phantom insisted, resting his head between the crook of my shoulder and my neck. "I'm just saying that maybe you need to understand him a little more."

"Explain him to me then," I said. "If you think I need to understand him then go for it but don't you forget that, at the time you died he was only fourteen or fifteen. A lot can change in a few years."

"All right. Well, he was bullied a lot – almost as badly as you are now. Dash and Paullina were especially cruel to him. He felt a lot of pressure coming from his family. His parents were starting to get more and more recognized and Jazz was being the perfect child. It may not sound like much all summed up like that, but he was living a hard life. So then his parents started getting rich and Paullina – the girl of his dreams – was starting to notice him. Once he got on top, he had to stay there. I think it's more for his mental health than anything."

"My heart bleeds for him," I commented dryly. "Like, I want to have sympathy for him, I really do. But I hate when people are like 'bullies are bullied too'. I don't care. I've been bullied my entire life and you don't see me stomping around and tearing people down! I try to see the best in everyone. And I refuse to tolerate people who act like that, just because they got a boo-boo doesn't mean that they can murder someone else!"

"Breathe, babe," Phantom cuddled me to his broad chest. "I know, life sucks _all_ the time. But I'm here for you and no one is going to murder you."

"I know. Will you grab my cell phone for me?"

I felt Phantom twist.

"What do you want your phone for?" Phantom asked, setting it into my hand.

"Text Jazz." I pushed the phone back into his palm. "You do it."

"Why?"

"Screen brightness. Don't want it near my head."

Phantom took the phone, his gloved hands fumbling over the touch screen. "What am I saying to her?" He asked.

"Tell her I won't be able to tutor the ass hat until next Tuesday." I paused. "But don't say ass hat. Call him by his name."

Phantom's thumbs hovered over the screen. "Fenton or Danny?"

I grit my teeth together. "Call it Danny."

"It? I thought you had compassion for all things."

"Call _him_," I emphasized the word, "Danny."

"Was that so hard?" Phantom teased.

"Uhm, yeah."

"Sent." Phantom placed my phone back on my bedside table. "Favourite book?"

"_The Lovely Bones_," I told him. "I think you knew that though. Didn't I say that when you were reading it?"

"Probably." Phantom agreed.

"Favourite movie?"

"Peter Pan," Phantom replied with confidence. "I liked the whole flying, young forever thing when I was a kid." He grinned nostalgically. "Foreshadowing."

"Amusing," I rolled my eyes. I didn't find it funny at all. Phantom's situation was incredibly sad and I felt that sadness to the depth of my bones.

"Favourite drink?"

"Coke," I said. "Not Pepsi. Some people say there is no difference, but there is. _There is_."

"I believe you," Phantom laughed.

"Uh," I thought. "Hmmmmm."

"That's a question I don't have an answer for," Phantom nudged me gently.

"Shut up," I pushed at his arms.

"Or you'll kiss me again?" Phantom finished.

"No." I wrinkled my nose at him. "I'm thinking of a question to ask you – one you might actually answer."

"Ask away," Phantom smiled.

"Are you a virgin?" I blurted.

"Sam," Phantom sighed. "No."

**Thank you to my betas foreversky. I don't own anything recognizable. Sorry the chapter is late, internet was choppy! I'll make it up to you next week :)**

**Don't forget to check out the poll concerning what happens after _Reflections_ on my profile! Right now _companion in Danny's POV_ is in the lead!**

**~TLL~**


	19. Chapter 19

"No?" I sat up and away from Phantom. "How did you sleep with somebody?"

He sat up along with me. "Despite the fact that there are many sexual positions, there are really only a few ways to actually do the act and –"

"Shut up," I commanded. Even as I was feeling the emotions surging through me, I was well aware that I was overreacting – possibly. "Who?"

"Sam," Phantom shook his head and reached for me. "That's not something we need to talk about."

"Talk about?" I spat. "Were you going to tell me that you'd slept with someone else? That you'd been with someone else?"

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal," Phantom defended himself. "It was literally in another life. And she didn't mean anything to me, not the way you do."

"Didn't mean anything to you?" I repeated the words and rolled my eyes. "I _hate_ when people say that. I know that sex isn't emotional – it's physical – but that doesn't stop me from believing that it should mean something; sex that is. To me, baring my body to someone, trusting them not to abuse it, is dangerous and shouldn't be taken lightly. To me, having sex – especially for the very first time – means that you love the person, that you trust them. It means that thirty years from now you should be able to remember their name, their face and why you thought they were right. You don't have to be with the one to have sex, but they should mean something to you."

Phantom blinked, and despite myself, I blushed at my speech.

"That was … something," he said. "Look, it was never my intention to hide something from you –"

I snorted. "You won't even tell me your fucking _name_."

Phantom closed his eyes. "There are some things I can't tell you."

"So what? You've seen ninety-eight percent of my soul and I'm still trying to figure out if you looked like that in life – what teenage boy has white hair?"

"I like my hair."

"That's not the point."

"But that was the question." Phantom shrugged.

"Why don't you care?" I asked him. "You're sitting there, all casual and cool, and I just found out something about you that I didn't expect."

"I care more about your reaction than my past," Phantom replied honestly. "And you expected me to be a virgin?"

"Well, yeah." I nodded. "I knew that you had more experience than me, you were my first kiss, but I thought you were different."

"Different?" Phantom copied.

"Yeah . . . different. I thought you were better than all of those hormonal teenage boys that just want to get laid –"

"It wasn't about getting laid!" Phantom shouted at me and I gaped at his suddenly aggressive stance.

"Then what was it about?" I asked quietly. I was suddenly faced with the realization that I was generalizing Phantom and that wasn't right. Every person has their own history and I shouldn't say that just because some boys only want sex, that's all he wanted.

"I can't tell you!" he barked. "I feel like I can't tell you anything!"

I tried to reach for his hand but he tore it away. "Tell me," I pleaded. "That's what I want; to know. I'm here to listen to you, not to judge you."

"It's not that simple." Phantom shook his head. "I care too much about you and I've made too many mistakes for it to be simple."

"Everyone makes mistakes. It's a fact of humanity. I'm not going to be mad at you or punish you for a mistake."

"You just were." Phantom took a deep breath, like he was trying to reign himself in. "I had sex once and you didn't know the story behind it, but you were still perfectly willing to lecture me."

"To be fair," I began, trying to lighten the mood. "You were being a bit of a smartass about it."

Phantom's entire body drooped forward. "You won't get it. I don't know why I tried to fool myself. It's not going to work. I am a fucking idiot."

And then he left.

I waited for him to come back.

But he never did.

(-.-)

It was Friday afternoon and I had arrived for cheerleading practice, and for going out to eat with Valerie afterwards. I was excited for that. I had been alone since Phantom had walked out on me (with a few check-up visits from my mother) and I was looking forward to a nice, human, companion.

When I arrived to the gym, Paullina and Starr were over in the corner talking intently. Valerie was sitting up on the bleachers and everyone else was stretching. I dropped my bag next to the door and walked over to Valerie, who was giving the stink-eye to Paullina.

"Hey," I greeted.

"Hello." She crossed her arms and increased her glare at Paullina.

"Did she do something?" I took a seat beside Valerie.

Valerie sighed, her entire body caving in on itself. "Remember how I told you I used to date Fenton?"

I nodded, trying to mask my disgust. "You said he was different now."

"And he is," Valerie nodded. "But I swear, I am still in love with that boy."

If I'd had anything to choke on, I would have been convulsing. "_In love_?" I gasped. "You are in love with Paullina's boyfriend?"

"He was mine first," Valerie growled. "And I didn't want to let him go. He became so obsessed with being popular though – and he always had a thing for Paullina. I thought that it would go away because of how much he liked me … Well, how much he said he liked me. But it turned out that he was infatuated with her. No, that's too small of a word. He was in love with her. And now she has him."

"But they've been going out for how long?" I asked. "Why are you so pissed off today?"

"Because he fucked her." Valerie said bluntly. "He _fucked_ her."

"I thought he wouldn't." There went my last shred of respect for Fenton.

"He wouldn't. But Paullina's been talking _all _day about how he swept in – snuck in – to her house and took her passionately on her massive bed." Valerie pretended to gag. "If I have to hear one more story about it, I'm going to gouge her eyes out."

"I'll help," I muttered whilst thinking of how it was ironic how my life and Paullina's seem to coincide. I fight with my boyfriend over his past sexual exploits and Paullina gets laid.

Things seem to come so much easier to her.

"Manson! Gray!" Starr's shrill voice exploded over the gym. "Start stretching!"

Valerie stood up and stretched her arms out to the sides before sitting back down. Paullina and Starr, who had been staring at her, glared. Valerie flipped them off, turning to face me.

"Where were we?" She mumbled to herself. "Yes, gouging Paullina's eyes out."

I nodded, my hands involuntarily turning into claws. For a non-violent person, Amity sure was making me feel murderous. Yet another reason to leave this place.

"It's ridiculous though, isn't it?" Valerie pressed, "To love him when he clearly has no feelings for me and I barely talk to him. He isn't even the same boy anymore."

"Maybe you're in love with a memory," I offered.

"In love with a memory," Valerie mused. "Very profound."

"MANSON! GRAY!" Paullina shouted this time, her accented voice unable to sound as harsh as Starr's. "Down here. We're handing out assignments."

"There are assignments in cheerleading?" I questioned Valerie as we made our way down the bleachers to the gym floor.

Valerie chuckled. "Newbie," she shook her head. We came to a halt. The girls were lined up in a row, Paullina and Starr facing them. Valerie and I jumped onto the end of the line.

"Can everyone here do a cartwheel?" Starr asked.

There was a few random mutterings throughout the room.

"Raise your hand," Paullina sighed impatiently. "If you cannot do a cartwheel."

A few girls raised their hands. I wasn't one of them.

"Behind us," Starr ordered, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. The girls obeyed.

"Please go to the mat one by one and demonstrate your cartwheel," Starr continued. "Paullina and I will then tell you which side of the gym we want you on."

"What is this for?" I asked Valerie as the other cheerleaders headed for the mat.

"They're sorting flyers from bases." Valerie explained, though vaguely. "And tumblers."

"None of that means anything to me," I reminded her. "I've never been a cheerleader before and I'm here against my will."

Valerie glanced at me. "You flexible?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"You're small and flexible. You'll be used for tricks – that's a flyer. You'll be thrown into the air and stuff."

"Thrown?" I squeaked, thinking of what I would look like after Paullina failed to catch me.

"Relax, it's safe." Valerie paused. "Usually. I'm usually on base. I can do a few tumbling tricks, but I'm not light enough to be a flyer. And I'm one of the strongest so …"

"So the bases catch the flyers?" I tried to clarify, but Valerie was already gone across the mat, exploding into a cartwheel.

As soon as she was clear, I followed suit, executing the cartwheel as quickly as I could. I felt like a show animal, being forced to perform in front of the judges. They were barely watching me anyway. Paullina was still talking (I'm assuming about Fenton and how he was in bed. The mere thought of him and Paullina being intimate made me shudder. Can you imagine what would happen if they were to procreate?) and Starr was absentmindedly examining her nails.

Paullina looked at me lazily and pointed to the side of the gym I had been on previously. Valerie had now moved to the opposite side. The girls I was now grouped with were all the same body type – slim and short, like I was.

Paullina and Starr turned to face us and the show animal feeling came to me in waves. I think Paullina's disdain for me came with it me, though. I felt like she was trying to kill me via telepathy or whatever that word was. It wasn't going to work. My mentality was stronger than hers.

"We need four flyers based on the amount of girls we have." Starr explained. "There are eight of you over there. Most of our routines require three tumblers. One of you will do both." She grinned. So get to showing us your tricks!"

(-.-)

I plodded into the Nasty Burger behind Valerie, who politely opened the door for me.

"Thanks," I breathed, crawling into the nearest booth. I didn't even care that the air was thick with grease and the scent of burning meat. I was sitting down and I even had a chance to breathe.

"What do you want?" Valerie gestured to the menu which was displayed over the top of the counter.

I glanced at it. It was meat, meat and more meat. "Uhm . . ." There, a salad. Success! Green will prevail. "Caesar salad and an apple pie," I told her. "Here," I dug a twenty out of my purse.

"You just breathe," Valerie advised. "You don't look great."

"Ugh," I dropped my head onto the table with a resounding clack. Considering my concussion, perhaps not the best thing I've ever done. Not that it mattered. The table, though greasy and probably covered in unimaginable diseases, was cold. And I was sweaty and heaving for breath.

The table was heaven.

"Danny, why don't we go back to my _house_?"

The heavenly booth was situated right next to hell. Paullina and Danny (and probably others since neither seemed to travel without an entourage) were right next to me. And she was trying to seduce him. Not that it was the first time she'd tried to in public, or for my unsuspecting ears to hear, but it was still gross.

"Maybe later, babe." I saw a flash of flesh over the top of their booth as Fenton stretched his arm around her.

"It'll make me _happy_," Paullina whined.

"I thought I made you plenty happy lately," Fenton said.

There was so much about that sentence that filled me up with anger, I couldn't even begin to process it. Not that I was about to sign up to be his English tutor too.

I saw Valerie coming back to the table, tray in hand. Wonderful. My stomach was rumbling and growling and trying to claw its way out of my flesh.

"I got you a small order of fries too," Valerie told me. "Somehow your salad and stuff didn't seem enough."

"Valerie?" Paullina had heard her voice and had turned around to look into our booth. "And Sam!" Her eyes widened. "Losers of a feather flock together."

"That's original," I told the table, still unwilling to move.

"No surprise you're here though," Paullina continued. I had no idea who she was talking to but since I wasn't getting screamed at for not looking at her, I assumed it was Valerie. "The fat people always flock to the fast food restaurants."

If Paullina hadn't already drained me of all my energy, I would punch her in the face. That was rude and Valerie wasn't fat and this place was making me angry all the time.

I just wanted to be cuddled by Phantom, who I may or may not ever see again, assuming he decided that he didn't hate me after all.

Life is complicated.

"You're in a fast food restaurant," Valerie pointed out to Paullina.

"Boys like this food," Paullina smiled. "I'm here for Danny, who is a boy and who isn't fat. You, however, are a girl and you are fat."

"Sam's a girl and she's not fat."

I could feel Paullina staring at me.

"She's a bug," Paullina said. "Useless, small, destined to be squashed beneath my foot . . ."

"That's why you gave her one of the most important slots on the team, right?" Valerie asked. "The flyer _and_ tumbler job that you can't even pull that off and she can. Is that why you're so pissed at her?"

"I have no reason to be pissed at her," Paullina said. "She gets to fall and break herself while I look good during cheerleading. I have the hot, perfect, amazing in bed –"

"Paullina!" I heard Fenton interject, but she just kept going.

" - big, boyfriend, and what does she have? That's right, nothing. She has no one to love her, to hold her, to want to talk to her outside of being forced to. She is forced to socialize with the likes of _you_."

"You used to socialize with the _likes of me_," Valerie sneered, the words as full as venom as Paullina's had been. "And don't forget who your boyfriend was with first. Don't forget who your boyfriend slept with while you were still with him."

Her words made me sit up and gasp. I could feel the rest of the Nasty Burger turning to stare at the face-off between Valerie and Paullina. I almost pitied Fenton – or I would if he wasn't still sitting in the same spot, even as his girlfriend climbed over him, and stuffing his face full of fries.

Boys.

Paullina faced Valerie, trying to find balance on her three inch heels that made them the same height. Valerie straightened her spine just enough that Paullina had to tilt her head up to look at her.

"You are a pig," Paullina told her. "You are a rotten bitch who doesn't deserve to walk this earth, you pathetic slut."

Valerie cocked her head to the side, the words appearing to have no effect on her. However, I knew the signs. I could see the way her eyelids drifted shut, as though she were trying to hide the potential tears; I could see the way the skin around her eyes and mouth tightened, as though simply by preparing herself she could block the words out; I saw the way her hands curled into fists, preparing for an attack that I hoped she wouldn't make.

"Paullina," Valerie said, her lips so tight the colour was drained out of them, "there's no need to describe yourself."

"You filthy slob," Paullina growled. "You pathetic, useless whore." She reached for our table and picked up the ketchup bottle that resided there. She pointed the tip at Valerie and squeezed so the sauce sprayed all over Valerie. Then she took the now empty bottle and stabbed Valerie in the forehead with it. It couldn't have hurt much but Valerie roared. She picked up Paullina by the throat (and I kid you not, she had two hands wrapped around Paullina's _neck_) and threw Paullina into the nearest wall.

"VALERIE!" I screeched, jumping to my feet. Paullina wasn't moving.

Oh shit.

"What did you just do?"

"PAULLINA!" Fenton dove from the booth, to Paullina's side.

"Fuck all of you!" Valerie screamed. "I hate this fucking place."

She brought her ketchup covered hands to her ketchup covered face, trying to staunch the flow of tears.

"Val?" I whispered, trying to reach out to comfort her. Tucker, who had been with Starr in the booth across from Fenton and Paullina, was talking to 911. "Are you okay?"

"Don't touch me!" She slapped me and ran out the door.

I froze in place, unsure of what I should do. Fenton was still bent over Paullina's still body.

"Breathe!" He was urging her, and I had to admit, there was something sweet in the way he was focused on her, urging her to be okay.

And then reality smashed me in the face. If Fenton was telling Paullina to breathe, that meant she _wasn't_. Did I just watch Valerie commit murder? Am I watching Paullina die? I collapsed back into the booth, the gravity of the situation making me tremble. Paullina couldn't die. I may dislike her, but she didn't deserve death. She didn't deserve what had just happened.

Holy fuck.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thank you to be my beta: **_**foreversky**_**. Don't forget to check out the poll: companion piece in Danny's POV is still in the lead!**

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	20. Chapter 20

"Did you see where Ms. Gray went after she left the premises?"

There was a policeman questioning me. He was kind enough to pretend he had patience as I sat in the booth and hyperventilated throughout the interview. Paullina had been carried out on a stretcher several minutes ago, followed by Fenton and her entourage while I had thrown up in the garbage can.

I shook my head at the man.

"Not even if she went left or right?" he pressed.

"No," I rasped.

"What about where she would go?" he continued. "Any place she favours? Somewhere special?"

"I really didn't know her. This was the first time we were hanging out."

"Calm down," he told me, waving his hand gently, probably trying to be soothing.

I wasn't soothed, not under any circumstances.

"What was Ms. Gray's relationship with Ms. Sanchez?"

"They didn't like each other." I swallowed hard. They would hear that tidbit from everyone else they interviewed, but it felt like I specifically was getting Valerie into trouble. Logically, Valerie had gotten herself into trouble – Paullina was being snarky but hadn't done anything that demanded the response Valerie had given. Illogically, I was still feeling loyal to the girl I had thought could be my friend.

"Why is that?"

"Paullina's boyfriend was Valerie's ex-boyfriend. Valerie still liked him. And Paullina was really mean to Valerie – was always saying rude comments and stuff like that."

"I see. Was the attack on Ms. Sanchez provoked?"

It was like he was reading my thoughts.

"Sort of. Paullina was saying a bunch of degrading things about Valerie, she poured ketchup on Valerie and hit her with the bottle but nothing like what Valerie did to her."

"I see." The cop made several notes on his pad. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Manson." He only remembered my name after consulting the top of his notepad. "Can you give me your address so I can contact you at a later date?"

I gave him my address.

"Can I go now?" I clarified.

"You are welcome to head home," he gestured to the door.

I nodded eagerly and bolted out the door. The outside air was refreshing – I gulped it in with a satisfied sigh. The cold chill of November swept across my cheeks and I wondered if Valerie was outside in the crisp air; how Paullina was doing in the hospital with her recycled air; and where Phantom was with his lack of air. So many people that I had to think of, so many people that I was hoping a happy ending for. Well, there could be no happy ending for Phantom – he's already reached his end, but that didn't mean I was hoping he couldn't be happy in his afterlife with me. I didn't know how I was feeling about Valerie. On one hand, she had done an awful thing to a person who hadn't been nice to either of us. On the other, she had been a good friend for the few conversations we'd had. I just hoped that she didn't do too much damage to anyone else while she was out running around.

As for Paullina, I prayed she was going to come out of the hospital in full health, I hoped that she wasn't too badly hurt and I hoped that she would be pronounced okay very quickly. I hoped that she was able to return to school, the cheerleading team, and her friendships and relationships. And, if I was being completely honest, I was hoping that, _maybe ... maybe_, this close encounter would turn her into a better person. Perhaps she would realize that her ways had, in a way, brought Valerie's response down upon her and it would help her realize that she should be nicer to people.

It might be a bit hopeful of me – a bit dreamer-ish – but what can I say? Everyone has a good side and a bad side, Paullina just needs to embrace her goodness a little more.

I slipped into my car, fully aware that my hands were shaking and that it probably wasn't a good idea for me to be driving. I wasn't overly concerned – I did need to get home and a lot of people would probably be holding a vigil at the hospital, eager for any news about their beloved Paullina. I wanted good news concerning her too, I just wasn't going to curl up by her bedside.

As I drove home my mind, inexplicably, flashed to Fenton. I was in trouble, after the scene in Nasty Burger. Before, I had seen him as an adversary – an asshat who was so rude to me that I didn't feel bad about being rude back. Now, he had been humanized. He had been reduced from an arrogant jerk to a weeping teenage boy, worried over his girlfriend. I wouldn't be able to look at Fenton without seeing him bent over Paullina's broken body, begging for her to be okay. Even as I parked my car in my garage I could still see him in front of me, crying over what he might lose.

It was the first time that I hadn't felt a bit bitter on Dash's part over Paullina leaving him. He may love her, but who's to say that Fenton didn't love her too?

I let out a sigh, padding inside. I was so glad that it was the weekend and that I didn't have to dwell on this anymore.

(-.-)

Sunday night.

I shoved my homework off the foot of my bed. I didn't _have_ to do it. It was my last year of high school, I could afford to ignore this little detail called 'effort'. Besides, even if I had done nothing throughout my entire school career, my family's connections would be able to get me into – and through – a good university. I was too honorable to accept that, however, and I battled for top marks. Except for now, when sleep sounded good, inviting, and wonderful. I was just reaching for my light, when there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" It was impossible not to sound annoyed.

"Sammy," Mother stuck her head in. "A policeman is here to see you."

"But it's so late." I glanced at my clock. Okay, it was eight o'clock at night. Perhaps not as late as I thought.

"Are you coming down to see him or not?" Her tone was telling me that there wasn't really an 'or not' option. _Of course_ I was going down to see him. _Of course_ I was going to be the gracious and courteous daughter she thought she raised.

"Yes, Mother." I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, heading for the door. I grabbed my robe off the edge of my trunk as I passed; my pajamas too skimpy on top to appear in front of policeman in.

I followed my mother downstairs. Her heels stabbed into the wood as she plodded into the living room. "Here she is, Officer. Are you sure I can't get you anything?"

"No thank you ma'am." He said as I strode in.

"I'll just be in the kitchen if you need me." She blew past me in a puff of perfume.

I felt the need to point out that she was still married, even if her husband didn't live with her. I also felt the need to point out that she'd never done anything productive in a kitchen in her life. Well, not that I was aware of anyway.

"Evening, Ms. Manson."

"Evening, Officer." I gestured for him to sit on the couch as I took a seat in the armchair across from him.

"Do you remember me from the diner?" He asked.

"Yes," I said, "Thank you for being so kind. I was a mess."

"After witnessing that, I would expect nothing less. I came to inform you of Ms. Gray and Ms. Sanchez's current states."

That was really nice of him. Something could be said, I suppose, for small town cops.

"And what would that be?"

"We apprehended Ms. Gray at her residence this morning."

I didn't like the word apprehended being used in conjunction with Valerie's name. Though I had witnessed her violent actions, Valerie's kindness to me when I had been so alone in Amity stuck in my mind. I couldn't quite bring myself to turn against her completely.

"What's going to happen to her?" My voice sounded weak; tiny, if you will.

"That's more up to the lawyers now." The cop made a face. "But, between you and me, Ms. Sanchez's family is very influential. Ms. Gray is in big trouble."

I made a face. I already knew Valerie was going to be in big trouble. I made a mental note to catch up on the local legal system.

"And Paullina?" I asked, because the curiosity beast that was inside me demanded to be sated. Also, if Paullina was healthy, Valerie would be in less trouble.

"She's being released in the next two to three days, with a good bill of health. There will be no long-term effects."

I let out a breath of relief. "I'm glad she's going to be okay."

"Okay after quite a scare." The cop looked me in the eye and I could feel the mood get more serious.

"Yes."

"Is there any detail you left out when we last spoke?"

I lifted my eyes to him. "To be honest, I don't remember much of it - I was in shock after seeing that happen. I answered your questions as best as I could."

"Was Valerie in an abrasive mood when you two went for your meal?"

"No." I shook my head. "Paullina and Starr were being pretty hard on us in cheer practice …" I paused. "Well, no, she kind of was. She was angry at Paullina for being with the boy she liked."

The cop consulted his notes. "I believe you mentioned that in your last interview as well. That was my final question for you." The cop stood, and I copied him. "Thank you for your time, once again."

"You're welcome." I showed him the door. He stepped outside and gave me a nod goodbye. I imitated the gesture and waited until he was safely in his car before closing the door.

I turned away from the front entrance and made a beeline for the stairs.

"Samantha!" Mother's voice stopped me before I could even get a foot onto the first step.

"Yes?"

"I need to mention to you something about your father."

I backed away from the stairs, heading into the kitchen. "What about Daddy?" I fought to keep the ache out of my voice. It had been so long since I had seen him, and I had been in one of the worst places I'd ever been in my life when I had.

"He's coming to visit for Christmas." I couldn't be sure, but I think Mother looked a little sad at how happy I was at the prospect of seeing my father – happiness I'd never quite been able to mimic around her.

"Really? When's he getting here?"

"December twenty second and he'll be staying until the middle of January."

December twenty second. A little more than a month away. I didn't know if I could stand it, but I now had something to look forward to.

I looked at Mother, feeling the smile on my face beginning to fade. "Aren't you happy he's coming?"

"Of course I am," Mother said quickly. "Just … we've been apart so long. But that's nothing to worry you over – I don't care how old you are, you're still my daughter and you don't need to know all the grisly details of our relationship."

"If you say so," I shrugged. "Goodnight."

"Night, Sammy."

I meandered slowly toward my room, taking my sweet time with the stairs. No need to overexert myself when I was just going to fall into bed when I reached my room.

I was wrong about the falling into bed part. The moment I stepped inside my room, cold arms swept around me; cold lips, feather light, pressed against mine until those lips darted to my ear. "I am so, so sorry, Sam. I was a fool. Forgive me, please."

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky. Don't forget to vote on the poll - Danny's companion is winning with a 52%!  
**

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**


	21. Chapter 21

"Forgive you?" Though it was probably the hardest thing I'd ever done, I pushed Phantom away from me. I could still feel the chill of his arms around me, the whisper of his breath against my ear as he spoke. I could pick out his eyes in the dark of my room.

"Please."

I turned away from where I knew he was standing and concentrated on turning on my light instead.

"Sam, don't ignore me like this."

"I don't want to fight with you."

This was the truth. The last thing I wanted to do was argue with Phantom – he was pretty much the only thing I had in this town. He was the only thing I'd ever had in my entire life. He understood me, and he made me laugh and I could go on for days about the way I felt about him. Yet, something had happened between us days ago. I will be the first to admit that, in the beginning, I overreacted. I do that a lot. That, however, did not make it okay for him to push me away like he had. It did not make it okay for him to leave me hanging for days.

"Thank god."

Light turned on, I move away from the wall to face him. I almost expected Phantom to look different. It was ridiculous (Phantom would never look different) but I had wanted to see some change in him from our time apart, short as it was. But he was the same – handsome in his black spandex, with his shock of white hair and his neon green eyes that hypnotized me and made my knees go weak. Speaking of knees … I leaned heavily against my door.

"I was so stupid. I reacted in a way I shouldn't have and we both suffered from it. I just –" here he ran a hand through his hair and left it lingering at the back of the neck. Despite how I was feeling angry, the gesture was still as sexy as hell. "I feel so wrong about this relationship sometimes."

All of my internal organs began to sink to my toes. A lump appeared in my throat the size of Canada. I was going to throw up. Or cry. Or both. What could he possibly mean by that? I squelched my rampant thoughts – no need for my mind to go where his wasn't.

"What do you mean?"

Phantom dropped his arm. "Do you want to sit down?" He gestured to the bed.

People sat down for bad news.

I moved to my bed, settling near my pillow while he floated near the foot of my bed.

"So?" I brought a pillow to my chest and hugged it tightly, as though it were a lifeline. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not for you," the words seemed forced out of his mouth; or maybe he was just hesitant. "You're this beautiful, living girl who has so much ahead of her. And what am I? I'm this ghost who can't even let you get too close."

"You can let me get close," I protested. "You just won't."

"I shared something with you and it blew up," Phantom defended himself. I opened my mouth to do the same, but he went on before I could speak. "That's my fault too. I should have been smarter than to get involved with you but I did. And it's been the most magnificent months of my entire existence."

My heart melted, though it was still sinking through the floor.

"I just don't know what to do."

He looked so sad, so alone, that I knew better than to fight with him. Instead, I offered the only solution I could think of. I held out my arms. Phantom looked at my outstretched limbs, met my eyes for half of a second, and he collapsed against me. His head fit against my shoulder perfectly, his torso was slumped into mine. I wrapped my arms around his ribs and his large hands spread across the expanse of my back.

"I'm sorry," he chanted over and over again in my ear.

I didn't know what to say.

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry too."

"You don't have to be. I messed up. I messed up so bad."

"You didn't mess up," I assured him. "I'm right here. I'm right here."

"You are the most amazing person," Phantom told me. "You are too good for this world."

"Don't speak like that." I rocked him a little, and felt him tighten around me.

"It's true." He looked up at me, and I looked down at him. "Do you forgive me?"

"You running away from me hurt. I thought you were never coming back. I thought that I would never get to see or talk to you again."

"I'm awful, I know!" He buried his head in my shoulder again, but I could hear his voice, loud and clear, when he spoke. "Please, tell me this isn't the last time I get to hold you."

"This isn't the last time you get to hold me." This was automatic. I didn't have to think about this. Not being held by Phantom again? I couldn't quite wrap my head around it. And it wasn't a big fight – certainly not enough to warrant breaking up over. I liked him, he liked me, and there were bigger issues that, eventually, we were going to run into.

I sunk down the bed so that we were laying together, rather than him sitting on me. Phantom pulled the blanket over us.

"The light," I whispered, as he started pulling the blanket over our heads.

He rolled his eyes good naturedly, and despite the intense conversation we'd just had, the feeling of normalcy, of _us_, was starting to seep back in. "You're going to make me get up?"

I shoved his shoulder gently. "Someone's gotta turn it off." My voice was joking, but soft. I was in the mood for gentle cuddles and drifting off to sleep. I had missed him holding me while I fell asleep.

"I'll do it … on one condition."

I wrinkled my nose. "Condition?"

"Yes, condition." He smirked.

"What kind of condition?"

"You tell me everything you did this weekend."

I rolled my head and sighed. "Well at ten thirty-two I woke up to have a pee." I grinned. "That kind of detailed?"

"My girlfriend is gross." Phantom flipped the blankets down and dove for the light switch. His feet didn't touch the ground once.

"You asked for it," I reminded him.

He gave me the stink-eye as he flopped down next to me. "Seriously. What did you do while I wasn't here?"

"I went to cheerleading practice on Friday, listened to Valerie rage and Paullina gloat – that was fun."

"Raging and gloating?" Phantom repeated. "Sounds … fun?"

"It wasn't. It was all about _Fenton_." I couldn't help but spit the name. Yet, even as it crossed my lips, there he was, bent over Paullina, screaming at her to be okay. My heart stuttered.

"What did he do?" Phantom asked, though his voice sounded funny. "Did he sleep with Valerie again?"

"No! That's the worst part –she wishes she had. Sleep with Fenton? I can't imagine it. But she's in love with him and Paullina slept with him." I rubbed my temples. "I hate high school girls. And then, at the Nasty Burger, Valerie threw Paullina into a wall after Paullina turned into a totally bitch on Valerie."

"Is Paullina okay?"

"I was told she would be. And they caught Valerie." I curled up against him. "I just want them both to be okay."

"Even Paullina?"

"She's a bitch but she doesn't deserve to be thrown into a wall."

I pushed my nose into my jawbone. "But do we have to talk about them? Can't you just kiss me and then cuddle me until I fall asleep?"

Phantom hooked his fingers under my chin and brought my face up to his. He lingered over my lips, not touching them, just there, until I began to squirm.

"Kiss me!" I demanded.

"Patience young grasshopper," he said in a hushed tone.

"You're really doing this right now?" I said in disbelief.

"No," Phantom grinned, and planted one on me. It was loud and silly and literally _smacked!_ Just like kisses do in books.

I giggled. "That was some kiss."

"Babe, you ain't seen nothing yet."

He brought his lips to mine again and I melted on the inside.

(-.-)

It was all over school Monday morning. I walked in, expecting to hear about Paullina (who was expected back next week). And I did hear about her, but it was not that news that was running rampant. It was not the discussion of her ankle boot or how she'd had to have something removed (spleen? Appendix? Something like that).

Valerie killed herself.

And they were talking about her like she was a fucking sideshow act.

_"She was a fat cow anyway."_

_ "I didn't realize she was still alive until they told me she was dead."_

_ "Fuckin' freak. I feel so much safer now."_

_ "What if they had let her out – she was only seventeen – and went all psycho on everyone. Any one of us could have been next. We could have died."_

_ "Paullina's lucky that bitch only injured her. Good riddance."_

_ "Ding dong the bitch is dead!"_

Valerie made a mistake by hurting Paullina. It was in the heat of a moment, an anger fuelled mistake. She was a human being – that had acted more decently toward me than most of those talking about her in fact – and didn't deserve to be gossiped about like this. She'd had to have been in a horrible place, mentally, physically, and emotionally, to do that to herself. I hoped that she was happier now and that she was freed from the horrors that had plagued her in life.

As I sat in first period, getting out my notebook like Valerie would never do again (and ignoring the whispers around me like I wished I would never have too again) a thought struck me. I hoped I was wrong. I hoped that Valerie wasn't like Phantom, a piece of the afterlife manifesting in the real world. I hoped that she was resting in peace. That, however, didn't mean, I wouldn't ask Phantom to keep an eye out for her, just in case.

I would love to have a chance to talk to her again. I would like to apologize for just sitting there while Paullina hurt her, for not having the opportunity to talk her out of suicide. I would like to know what she was thinking when she did it – was it just a way to spite Paullina, or did it have to do with Fenton, or was her life crumbling apart so badly that she simply couldn't see a way to fix it? We had never gotten the chance to know each other like we probably should have. I could have seen us becoming great friends. I would have stood by her. She shouldn't have been alone.

I fiddled with my pen as the morning announcements came on. Nothing concerned me until: _"Cheerleaders must take note that there will be no practices until next Monday."_

A good sign.

(-.-)

"Jeremy!"

I froze as I heard my mother yell my father's name. I shut the front door softly behind me. Was he here? He shouldn't be. Mother told me he wasn't coming until next month.

"Don't give me that attitude."

It clicked. They were talking on the phone. I hadn't heard her talk to him since we left New Orleans. I hoped that they were doing okay. Separation like that couldn't be easy. I wonder why she sounded so annoyed at him.

"You are coming home for Christmas. And don't you dare Pamela me. You haven't seen or spoken to your daughter in months."

This was true. No texts, no e-mails. I had gone from Daddy's little girl to completely invisible in his eyes. I couldn't say I blamed him. That was why we moved – because everyone looked at me differently. Except for Mother. And I didn't quite know how to take that part.

"She is the same child, Jeremy! Just because …" she stuttered over the words and my heart twisted. I didn't want to hear this. I didn't want to hear Mother lecturing Dad over how he should be treating me since my screw-up.

I tip-toed up the stairs, but her words still caught in my ears.

"Just because she did _that_ doesn't mean that she's not your daughter. She still loves and adores you – don't say you're disgusted by it, because it happened and you're going to have to deal with it."

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky. Don't forget to check out the poll: Danny's companion is winning with a 54%!**

**~TLL~**


	22. Chapter 22

I woke up to a gust of cold air. It wasn't the sensation of Phantom's chill, but rather a strong wind that ripped across my blankets. "What the hell?" I sat up abruptly, reaching for the lamp on my bedside table.

There was a loud thump and I saw it – a human figure silhouetted by the starlight. My jaw dropped and my voice clogged up in my throat. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I quickly stabbed the switch to turn my lamp on, getting ready to run for the hallway despite the lack of clothing I slept in. Yellow light flooded the room and I saw the last person I would have ever expected.

Valerie.

And I could tell, just by looking at her, that she wasn't like Phantom, or the few other ghosts that I had seen. Valerie was real. Valerie was _alive_.

"What the hell?" I repeated, but not as angrily. I was in a state of shock.

"I had to come apologize to you," she said. "My dad doesn't know I left the house but I felt that it would be unfair to you if I didn't talk to you one last time."

"Do you want to tell me why people think you're dead?" I stuttered. "I don't understand."

Valerie sunk into the chair in the corner of my room.

"Paullina's family was going to put me away for a long time. I was either going to be locked in jail or a mental hospital for probably the rest of my life. No matter what I've done I didn't deserve that. It wasn't like I planned on hurting her or that I ever hurt her that bad. Dad, he works in government by the way, arranged it so that it looked like a killed myself. We're leaving in the morning. My mother's family was Mexican and they still live there. Her sister has offered to take us in."

"How are you getting away with that?" I was amazed at the story. I thought breakouts like that were only in the movies.

"I don't want to go into detail," Valerie casually shrugged. "Dad just arranged it … Look, I can't ask you to lie for me –"

"If everyone thinks you're dead why would I have to lie?" I interrupted.

"Point taken. I'm just saying, if it falls apart …"

"This was all a dream." I finished the statement for her.

"Exactly." She smiled. "I think we would have been good friends, Sam."

"I think we could have been _great_ friends, Valerie." I corrected.

"If you're ever in Mexico," she said softly, "I'll be there."

I stood, keeping my blankets wrapped around me. I went to her and gave her a long hug.

"I think you're a lot stronger than I'll ever be," I whispered in her ear, "and I wish you all the luck."

"I think you're stronger than you think. I'm running away from these girls; you have to stay and do battle. I think you need a hell of a lot more luck than I ever will."

"Paullina isn't so scary." I leaned away from Valerie. "She's a rampaging bitch but she isn't scary."

"You just keep telling yourself that." Valerie slipped from the armchair over to the window.

"I do have a front door you know," I gestured to my bedroom door.

Valerie glanced at the way I was pointing and then back to my window. "This," she said, throwing it open (the screen was already discarded on the floor; a product of her break-in), "is _way_ more fun."

I laughed as she threw one leg over the window.

"See you later?" She asked as I met her eyes.

I nodded. I didn't know how it would happen, or when, but I knew that I would see Valerie again. "Of course."

She smiled at me and I managed to smile back as she threw her other leg over the side of my house and dropped down. I picked up the screen and replaced it. I couldn't see out in to the dark night but she was already gone.

I closed the window, drawing my blanket closer around me. It was cold out, so cold I was starting to see my breath in my own bedroom. I turned away from the window and let out a shriek.

"How long have you been standing there?" I demanded, chest heaving under my strained breathing.

Phantom shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he had just scared the living poop out of me. "Not long. I was here when she showed up, and she's lucky I realized who she was. I almost killed her."

I sucked in a deep breath. "Well thank you for not hurting her. You didn't listen, did you?"

He shook his head. "I figured you should have a moment alone with her. But, I thought she was dead …" he trailed off. "I mean, when you were crying earlier."

I yawned. "Can we cuddle and then I'll explain?"

I turned my back to him and stumbled over to my bed.

"Need me to get the light, darling?"

I chuckled at his tone. "And the heat too."

Phantom groaned. "That's all the way out in the hallway!"

"You either turn the heat up or you don't touch me." I pulled my blankets tightly around me, hoping to generate enough body heat to make it feel like the desert in my bed.

"But _Sam_," Phantom whined.

"You are such a teenage boy."

"If by teenage boy you mean perfect in every way possible, then yes, yes I am."

I reached behind me and tossed a pillow in the general direction of his voice.

"Missed me, missed me," he chanted, tauntingly.

"Shut up!" I growled, though not too seriously. I didn't want to think I was angry at him. "It's late and I'm tired."

"Technically it's early."

"_Phantom!_"

"All right. I'll get the heat."

"Such a nice boyfriend," I muttered.

He was only gone a minute before I heard the heat kick in. He turned off my lamp before jumping onto the bed. My mattress rippled beneath his weight. I didn't move as he began to tug on my comforter. "You gonna let me in?"

"You gonna freeze me to death?" I responded, a yawn bursting through my lips.

He must have phased under the blanket because the next thing I knew, his cold arms were around my waist and I was back to shivering.

"You sleepy?" he asked. His voice was low, raspy with his own exhaustion.

"Yeah. Unlike some people, I have to be up early." I rolled over so that I was facing him, his arms staying locked around me.

"Are you saying I do nothing all day? Because I fight ghosts. I keep this city safe."

"I just envy you – you don't have to deal with high school."

"You should sleep." He told me.

"Mmm. I should probably do a lot of things," I said. Before he could answer, or question what I meant by that, I moved on to something else. "You should do something for me."

His fingers, which had been trailing up and down my sides, paused. "Anything."

"Sing me to sleep?"

"I can't sing."

I kissed him on the cheek, cuddling deeper into his chest. "Sing for me anyway?"

"Only because you asked," he said. "Any song?"

"Surprise me."

"You have to promise you're gonna try to sleep though. I don't want you to be cranky in the morning."

I chuckled. "Scared for my fellow students?"

"Something like that." Phantom kissed my neck, just below my ear and I trembled.

"Sing," I prompted, because I felt like he was putting it off.

_"On the days I can't see your eyes,_ _I don't even want to, open mine. On the days I can't see your smile, well I'd rather sit and wait the while. For the days I know you'll be near, 'cause I day without you just isn't fair. See the days I can hear your voice, I'm left without a choice._"

My entire body felt heavy, melting into Phantom and the mattress but I just wasn't to sleep yet. I had never heard the song Phantom was singing and I was wrapped up in the lyrics and the rhythm.

_Plus I get weak in the knees, fall head over heels baby. And every other cheesy cliché. Yes I'm swept off my feet, oh my heart skips a beat, But there's really only one thing to say."_

As Phantom's words continued, he brought me closer to him. My legs became intertwined with his; his fingers played up and down my spine and his lips danced along the ridge of my ear.

"_God Damn you're beautiful, to me, you're everything. Yeah that's beautiful, yes to me. I can't find the words to explain, just how much you got me going insane. When you speak to me sometimes you'll find, oh, I stutter my words and say never mind. 'Cause even when you just walk by well I look around to seem occupied._"

A smile graced my lips. He said so much with the emotion he put behind the lyrics. The way his voice hitched when he called me beautiful made me feel like I was, made me feel like I could, maybe, be one of those beautiful girls I had always envied. Through a song, Phantom made me see myself as he saw me: beautiful.

"_'Cause I'm trying so hard to hide, yeah, all of these feelings inside, 'cause get weak in the knees, fall head over heels baby. And every other cheesy cliché. Yeah I'm swept off my feet, oh my heart skips a beat, but there's really only one thing to say –"_

I fell asleep before he could finish the song. I can't pinpoint the exact moment I drifted off, but I do know that Phantom was in every single dream I had that night. He was holding my hand, loving me, and that's what made me beautiful.

(-.-)

I don't know which one is louder – the ticking of the clock or the resentment radiating from Fenton.

I'm not even sure resentment is the right word, but I could feel something radiating off of him in waves directed toward me.

"Are we actually going to study?" I asked.

I was back in his house, against my better judgment. We weren't in his room this time though; we were seated in his living room. I was cross legged in front of the arm chair, books spread out across the coffee table. He was strung out across the couch, hands locked behind his head, legs spread out so that he was taking up the entire piece of furniture.

"How about we don't?"

"How about you stay in high school another year?"

"How about you suck my dick?"

"How about you grow up?"

"Someone's a stick in the mud."

"How about you suck my dick?"

That last line caught his attention. He lifted his head – his electric blue eyes digging into mine. To my surprise, he tossed back his head and laughed a huge belly laugh, his entire body quivering. "So you do have a sense of humor."

"I'm a human being," I said dryly. "And there's a lot about me that you don't know."

"Interesting." Fenton quirked an eyebrow. "Betcha I know more about you than you think."

"Betacha you're wrong." I whispered under my breath. "Math?"

"No." Fenton rolled so that he was in a sitting position, closer to me.

"That's why I'm here – to tutor you in math. If you aren't interested in doing that, can I leave?"

"You're being paid to hang out with me for two hours two days a week. What's it matter to you what we do?"

I tossed up my hands. "I give up. If you feel like doing anything, let me know."

Fenton smirked. "Well now that I've won …" he said with a chuckle.

I sighed heavily and crossed my arms. Fenton seemed different today; maybe it was because he was happy his girlfriend was doing well. Or maybe it was because he got laid. Either way, he wasn't being an ass, so I wasn't about to complain.

"So," Fenton met my eyes again and leaned even further toward me – I could feel his breath washing against my face. In response to his proximity, my heart rate sped up and my spine began to tingle. I hated myself for it, but he was an attractive boy and I would be an idiot to miss it. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

**The song is **_**God Damn You're Beautiful To Me**_** by **_**Chester See. **_**I don't own anything recognizable. Thank you to Foreversky for betaing. Don't forget to vote on the poll: Danny's companion story is winning by 53%!**

**~TLL~**


	23. Chapter 23

_Boyfriend_? I thought, repeating the word in my mind. _Fenton is asking me about a boyfriend_?

First of all, why does Fenton care about anything in my life, particularly a boyfriend? He's never shown any interest in my life before; all he's ever done is try to tear me apart with his words. Second of all, should I tell him the truth? And if I do tell him I have a boyfriend, would he want to know more detail? What would I tell him? And the moment they (as in Fenton, Paullina and their crowd) challenged me to bring said boyfriend to a school function and I walked into that dance or whatever alone, I was doomed. They would tear me apart for being a liar and a fake.

I swallowed hard. Fenton was still staring at me, waiting for an answer.

"So," he prompted. "You have a boyfriend or are you completely alone?"

He said 'alone' as a sneer; as though he wouldn't be surprised if I was alone. That's what he expected, that I would have no boyfriend and be offended because of his question.

"Actually," I snapped, "I do have a boyfriend."

Fenton started, leaning away from me a little. His dark eyebrows drew together, thick over his blue eyes. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

Fenton slid down on the floor, his back resting against the couch. He tossed his legs out as far as they could reach, meaning that his legs were by mine. I gave him a look for attempting to invade my personal space and opted to move my legs beneath my body.

"What's he like?" Fenton implored.

"Why do you care?" I asked. "Is this some scheme of your girlfriend's? Some way to humiliate me again? Because I'm really not interested. Can we just get on to the math tutoring?"

Fenton chuckled. "Paullina is no evil mastermind." Then he shrugged. "She hasn't talked to me in days anyway. I'm more curious actually," here his facial expression changed, "about who would be stupid enough to date someone like you."

Despite the flash of rage that rocked through me, I was more confused. Was Fenton bipolar? He went from a seemingly genuine person to the guy who had given me hell since I arrived in Amity. If I didn't know better, I would say he was possessed (and knowing the town I was in, it was a more real possibility than I might like to acknowledge).

"Better question," I leaned back against the armchair, away from him, twirling my pen in my fingers for something to do, "Who would be stupid enough to date someone like Paullina?"

"Paullina is a gorgeous human being," Fenton replied, but I sensed no passion behind his words. I could sense sincerity but no more. I wondered what it meant before deciding I didn't care. I wasn't the type of person who wanted to get overly involved in everyone's relationships, especially theirs.

"Are you saying I'm not pretty?"

Fenton rolled his eyes at me. "I'm saying," his voice became really quiet, "I'm saying that you will never compare to her."

I pursed my lips. I wasn't offended, not by any means. It was only right for him to hold his girlfriend in higher esteem than he did any other female (though he shouldn't be putting other females down in order to do it). I just wished that Fenton would pick a personality; I couldn't keep being confused like this. I wouldn't mind it if I didn't interact with him, but I did. I wanted him to be the same person at school and at tutoring. It was fine when he was a continuous ass hat, but now he was starting to waver. I couldn't handle the flip between ass hat and nice (ish) person. It was worse because after the scene in the Nasty Burger, when he had been bent over Paullina's body, I had known that I'd never be able to fully despise him again – and so far it's true.

"It would be ridiculous to compare us," I told him, trying to take the higher road and move away from whatever petty words he might have been about to say, "we're completely different people with completely different experiences. We share nothing."

Fenton raised his eyebrows at me, letting out a heavy sigh. "You know what," he said gruffly, "your two hours are up. You can leave now."

"But we didn't do anything," I protested while slamming my textbooks shut. I was probably as anxious to leave as he was to get me out of his house.

"Whatever," Fenton pulled himself to his feet. "I'm managing a pass now. That's all I need."

I snorted. "Great aspirations."

"Dream big." He responded as sarcastically.

"Why of course," I nodded as I made my way to the door. "There's no other way to do it."

"Sam," Fenton called my name just as I opened the door. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and it wasn't from the cold wind that barged into the house and swept across my body.

"Fenton." I spun around to face him.

"I'm still curious to hear about someone who wants to date you."

I gave him a half-grin. "Stay curious," I told him.

I didn't wait to hear his reply before I slipped out the front door and onto the icy streets of Amity. I didn't mind walking – not even in December and it was cold. I liked the rush of the wind on my cheeks and the sensation of doing something. When I breathed, the air condensed into a white cloud that, as a child, I used to see different shapes in (on the days I wasn't pretending to be a dragon). Even now, as I headed home I was thinking about how my breath was reminding me of cotton candy today, and how hungry that made me.

"Sam." I froze at the voice. I hadn't seen Dash since he had thrown my across the floor at one of the Sanchez's functions.

"Can I help you?" I said coldly.

He was standing just a few steps to my left in a driveway. He reached up to run his gloved fingers over his hair, before realizing that he had a hat on. "I want to apologize."

I crossed my arms and took, what I hoped was, a strong stance. "You threw me across a floor and gave me a concussion. How do you apologize for that? I thought we were friends Dash, and I was just trying to help you."

"I know." He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and looked ashamed. "Can I confess something to you?"

I hesitated, blowing my breath out in quick puffs. I wasn't sure about standing here with Dash, on an icy street, with no one else around. But he was keeping his distance, and if he was going to get angry, I was sure I could get away this time. "What is it?"

Dash let out a loud rush of breath. "I was on steroids. I just had this incredible rush of rage come over me and I couldn't control what I was doing. It's no excuse, I know that, but I want you to understand that I didn't want to hurt you. I was an outcast by the people I had once cared about the most and you talked to me. You were the last person in that room that I would want to hurt."

"Oh god," I breathed. I had never come into close contacts with drugs, nor had any encounters with someone who was on them. "Are you getting help? Are you okay?"

Dash shrugged. "Okay? No idea. Help? Yeah. My parents have had me in counseling sessions since they found out and now that Christmas break is starting next week, they are sending me to a live in a rehabilitation centre."

"I wish you luck with that. I really hope you pull things together."

Dash smiled at me. "I'm going to a private school after I leave the rehabilitation center. I'm finally moving on, from both Amity and Paullina."

"That's really good." I smiled back at him.

"Can I have your number?" He asked suddenly. I blushed and he did too. "Not like, romantically or anything! I just … I don't think I gave you enough of a chance. I think that I was more worried about using you to get Paullina than I was about actually getting to know you, and I think I should know you."

I reached into my pocket and flipped open my phone. "What's yours?" I asked him, and he gave it to me. I sent out a quick text to him, and Dash pulled out his own phone when it vibrated.

"Gotcha," he informed me. "I'll see you around, okay?" He asked, turning to go into the house behind him.

There was a strange lump sitting in my throat from Dash's goodbye. In Amity there had been very few people to be nice to me without any reason – the main two being Dash and Valerie. Valerie was now gone, on the run to a place where I couldn't even contact her. Dash too, was now leaving. He was marching on to fix himself before getting to the rest of his life. I was slowly becoming more and more isolated in this small town, as all the people who I had managed to connect with were melting away. I supposed that I shouldn't be too bitter over it – I graduated in June and then I, too, would be getting on with the rest of my life.

"Yeah," I agreed, swallowing the lump. "I'll see you around."

He gave me a grin, but it looked as bittersweet as the one on my face felt. He trudged back into his house and I continued my walk home. I watched my boots scuff across the sidewalk, avoiding the ice patches which were deadly even though there was no snow yet, and I thought. I thought of how everything was already changing as people began to move on to the rest of their lives.

One thing about me is that I am a very nostalgic person. Thinking about the future and change absolutely destroys me on the inside. It makes my insides ache to the point where I think I'm going to collapse. So thinking about how all of these people, my age, were going to be grown-up someday, and thinking about how I will never be able to be sixteen again because I was already seventeen, and even that was rapidly slipping away, was scaring me. From one second to the next I was continually changing, but I never seemed to notice. I never noticed the change until I looked back and by then it was far too late.

I suppose that might be what partly what led me to the Thing. The Thing that Dad hates me for and despises me for. The Thing I will never forgive myself for.

My throat became constricted as I thought about the Thing and I thought about New Orleans. My mind drifted to the streets in New Orleans, and how I used to walk them like I did the streets in Amity. As I walked toward my house in Amity, I thought about my house in New Orleans. I thought about how much I loved that house, and how I could never return to it.

By the time I stumbled into my bedroom, tears were streaking down my face. All I wanted was to throw myself in bed and cry myself to sleep. I wanted to become so exhausted that I wouldn't rise until tomorrow, but before I could do any of that, there were cold arms around me, and a broad shoulder for me to bury my head in.

"Baby," Phantom ran his hands up and down my back. "What happened? Are you okay?"

I couldn't breathe, let alone answer him. The sobs ripped through my and I shook, feeling as though I was going to throw up from the weight that was on my shoulders.

"Sam, Sam," Phantom soothed, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: forever sky. Be sure to vote on the poll: Danny's companion is winning with a 56%!**

**~TLL~**


	24. Chapter 24

I could feel my tears stop and my throat begin to constrict, even more so than it had moments before. I could feel my face freeze and become expressionless._ That voice, why does it sound so familiar?_ The thought had barely crossed my mind before the answer came sprawling in like a punch to the gut.

He sounded like Fenton.

I pulled out of Phantom's embrace, tottering backward until I hit my armchair and sunk into it. He stood there, his arms hanging limply, as though expecting me to still be in his embrace. "Sam?" He repeated my name, and I heard it again. Though Fenton said my name harshly while Phantom said it like a caress, the same tones were there. The same lilt on the 'a' and the way they let the 'm' buzz on their lips for a moment.

"What just happened?" Phantom edged a little closer to me, looking confused.

I couldn't open my mouth to explain what I was hearing (I sounded crazy, even in my own head) so I just stared at him. And while I was staring, I tried to visualize Fenton. It wasn't hard to bring up a mental image of Fenton, I had spent that much time with him. I placed the mental Fenton next to Phantom and my stomach began to feel like it was sliding through my shoes. I could _see_ the similarities.

"Oh my god." I heard myself say it, but I didn't feel my lips move or remember making the words flow across my lips.

"What's going on?"

"Why do you sound like him?" I blurted.

` "Sound like who?" Phantom's snowy white eyebrows drew together as he frowned quizzically, pursing his lips.

"Fenton." I forced the name out and took in a gulp of air. Something was going on here – something wrong. How had I not noticed the similarities before? Was I stupid? I wasn't making up how much they had in common, but how could they have things in common? Fenton was a living, breathing, ass hat. Phantom had been dead for years.

"I don't sound like Fenton." Phantom chuckled and shook his head at me, but I saw the forced smile on his lips and I knew him enough by now to know how his eyes crinkled at the sides when he was really happy or really upset.

"Yes you do! And you know it. So please explain it to me because I've had a really shitty day and I don't feel like playing mind games!" I didn't want to sound angry at him and was instantly ashamed for snapping. I could feel the tears coming on again and I buried my head in my hands so he wouldn't see me cry.

"Shh," Phantom slid in beside me on my chair, moving me so that I was on his lap. "What made today so bad?"

"That's not what we're talking about right now," I said, attempting to push any thoughts of The Thing out of my mind. It was easier to pretend that it had never happened. "I want you to explain the similarities to me – and I know you know what I'm talking about."

"Okay." Phantom nuzzled in against my shoulder blade, wrapping his arms tighter around my waist. "Do you want the truth?"

"The truth?" My laugh felt bitter when I released it. "Do you mean to say you've been lying to me?"

I felt him tense beneath me and I felt stomach twist into knots. I had been joking mostly, but what if he had been lying to me? I steeled myself for the worst, though what that was, I had no idea.

"The reason I haven't told you my real name – who I was or anything – was that you seemed to hate Fenton from the very beginning and, well, I have ties to him."

"Ties," I echoed.

Phantom nodded, and his chin scraped along my spine, giving me goose bumps.

"What kind of ties?" I prompted after a moment of silence.

"We're … related."

"What does related mean? What are you to him?" My mind skimmed back over all the similarities, and there was only one obvious solution. "You're his brother."

"Are you mad?" Phantom asked, arms tightening around my stomach.

"I'm confused," I replied honestly. "When I figure everything the hell out, then we'll see if I'm mad."

I heard him snicker, though I was being completely serious.

"How are you both named Daniel then?" I asked.

"Uh … we're not. When, uh, I became like this, I called myself Danny as a … tribute thing to him, 'cause he always wanted to be a superhero."

I didn't know what to say. I closed my eyes and tried to think. It made sense, I guess. When I stopped berating myself and got over the fact that I hadn't notice how alike they looked (really, Sam? Really? Were you _that_ stupid?) it made sense. They even had similar mannerisms, when I thought about it. There was this little, prodding thought, however, that just wouldn't go away.

"Why wouldn't you just tell me?"

"I wanted to keep my human life separate – that part was totally true. I don't want you to think of me as _alive_ because I can never be alive for you."

I reached down, uncurling one of his arms that snaked around my waist to clutch onto his hand. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest as The Thing once again surfaced in my mind and how that outcome could have made this whole thing with Phantom so much easier.

"What is your name?" I shoved away all of the thoughts. It would do me no good to think those thoughts.

"Jack." He answered immediately.

Phantom slipped his hand out of mine and flipped me so that he was cradling me in his arms like a baby.

"So?" He pressed, his green eyes digging deeper into mine. "Are you mad?"

"Does Fenton know?" I blurted instead of answering his question.

Phantom hesitated. "I never told him."

I almost groaned. Yet another shred of sympathy was painted for Fenton. It was starting to be hard to hate him, especially with his attempt of banter at tutoring. I was starting to think that, perhaps, I should stop hating him. Perhaps it was worth it to, not like him (he had hurt me too badly with his words for that), but at least become neutral. Hate was useless, anyhow.

I nodded and curled into his chest. The world around us was still and I took a moment to appreciate the feeling of being in his arms. He was holding me and it was glorious. One of his arms was tucked under my neck, around my shoulders, my hand reaching up to be clasped in his. The other arm was across my stomach, securing me against it.

"So," Phantom spoke, the peaceful silence disappearing, "Are you going to tell me why you were so upset when you came in?"

I purposefully avoided his eyes, and shook my head, biting my lip.

"Sam," Phantom pushed. "You can tell me anything."

"I know," I breathed. It wasn't that I didn't trusted him (I probably trusted him more than it was wise), it was that I could barely voice the truth to myself. "It's just so much and it was the secret I was going to tell you in March."

"If you need to talk about it now, we can. If it's hurting you I want to help you through it. I don't want you to keep quiet because of some date."

I turned my head away from him, feeling my hair obscure my cheek as I did so.

"Hey," Phantom brushed the hair out of my face. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll tell you mine tonight to."

Not hearing his secret wasn't my reservation. I was so scared. I had never actually said this secret out loud – never talked about The Thing. After it had occurred, everyone just _knew_ about it. My Mother had told a few people, but it had leaked out. When I had tried to go back to school I was shunned – even more than I had been before. Before, I had been a loser. When I had gone back, I had been tainted, dirty. When The Thing had happened, it was like I changed, though I know I didn't. I was still the same on the inside and outside, it was simply that, now, my dirty laundry was scattered amongst the rest of society rather than being locked in my head.

"You'll judge me."

Phantom snorted. "You don't believe that. I would never judge you – there's too much wrong with me for me to even dream about judging you. Besides, how can I judge perfection?"

Though I really didn't want to, he made me smile.

"Trust me, okay?" Phantom asked, turning my head so that I was looking into his eyes. "Whatever hurt you, whatever made you cry, I won't judge you for it. I'm here to listen, to help, to do whatever you need me to. I am here for you."

I didn't doubt that. Even when I was first getting to know him, I had always felt secure with him. I just didn't know how to form the words, how to explain my greatest folly to him. Phantom always praised me even when I knew that none of it was true. How could I explain my weakness to him? How do I tell him about The Thing; the horrible Thing that I constantly feel pressuring my mind, that I can never take back, never move away from?

"Do you remember when I spoke of the kid, from New Orleans?" I asked, fumbling for my starting point.

"I think so. The bullied kid who committed suicide? You said that was your biggest regret; not helping him."

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Right. I didn't tell you that story right." I sat up, getting off of Phantom. I sat on the end of my bed so that we were staring at each other. I needed to watch his reactions to my tale. I needed to see what he truly thought of me before he could mask his feelings and tell me what he thought I needed to hear.

"There was no kid in New Orleans that got bullied like that." I paused. "Actually, that's a lie. I was that kid. I was the kid in the bully circle. I was the kid that got shoved into lockers and thrown around. I walked home with bruises every day. They hurled their words at me like daggers and even the teachers turned their backs on it. I was the kid in the bully circle who went home that night to commit suicide … I failed, obviously, or I wouldn't be standing here. But I wanted to succeed so badly. My dad was the one who found me and took me to the hospital, which is why he's avoiding me now.

"When I got out of the hospital and went back to school things got worse. Not only was I a friendless loser but I was now a worthless attention seeker. A teacher sent me to the guidance counsellor who asked why I would want to kill myself when I was a good student with excellent parents and a good school life. I tried to talk to someone, but I had no one to talk to. Mother was the only one who listened to me. When I burst into tears one night she pulled me out of school. I took online classes at home for the rest of the year, then she bought this house and we moved here over the summer. And that has been my life."

There was a long minute of silence after I stopped talking. Phantom's face hadn't changed throughout my entire story. He stood up from the chair and crossed the floor until he was standing in front of me. He placed his hands on my cheeks and tilted my face so that I was looking at him. He leaned down at placed a kiss on my lips.

"I don't know if you've ever heard this," he said quietly, speaking slowly but surely, "but I'm sorry. I'm sorry they hurt you and that you thought you had to resort to that. I hope that you see how beautiful; how smart, how strong you are. I hope you don't think that you deserved that, because you didn't. I hope you know that you always have me to talk to now; you don't ever have to feel alone. And, it may be cliché to say, but it will get better. It always does for the good ones."

I nodded, feeling tears coming – but tears of joy. I didn't do anything to deserve Phantom, someone who cared so much about me and who understood me so well, but I was so glad I did.

"Thank you," I gasped, holding him tight.

**I don't own anything recognizable! Thanks to my beta: foreversky. Don't forget to vote on the poll: Danny's companion is in the lead with a 56%~**

**~TLL~**


	25. Chapter 25

I let my fingers daintily trace along the outline of Phantom's face. It was nearing three o'clock in the morning and it had been hours since we had spoken a word to one another. We had only laid next to each other, just been together for hours. He had his arms locked around me, and I couldn't help but stare at him. I never would have imagined he would react the way he did to The Thing – it was one blessing I would always be thankful for.

While I was well aware that Phantom and I could not last forever (I was trying to avoid thinking about when we would end), he would definitely be one of the most influential people in my life. He was the first person that I ever truly connected to. He was my first kiss. He was a lot of things, and I suspected he would eventually become much more. I wanted to remember this moment; the moment he believed in me when I didn't even believe in myself. I wanted to engrave the words he said to me into my mind. I wanted to remember the outline of his face, the feel of his hand on my hip, and the chill of his skin.

Phantom parted his lips. "I never made good on my promise."

I reached up, as though in a dream, to run my fingers through his hair. "What promise was that?"

"To tell you my secret," he responded.

I didn't reply immediately. It was that slow, lazy part of the night where the blankets are soft and heavy, and the darkness insists you whisper to one another.

"You don't have to tell me that if you don't want to."

"I really want you to know."

I smiled, softly. "Okay, what's your secret, Phantom?"

"You can't say it like that," he chastised me gently, meeting my eyes. "I don't want you to react the wrong way."

"I promise not to be mad," I swore.

"It's not that I think you'll get mad." Phantom wrinkled his nose. "At least, I hope not."

"I promise not to overreact," I rephrased.

"Better," Phantom leaned forward and kissed my nose. He stayed on his stomach, propped up on his elbows as he studied me.

For reasons unknown to me, I blushed under his gaze.

"Sam," he whispered my name. He brought his gloved hand to rest against my cheek. "My secret is …" he choked on the words and stopped.

"What is it?" I asked, smiling at his verbal trip. I was genuinely curious now.

Phantom hesitated, flicking his eyes away from mine before bringing them back again. "I'm in love with you."

My stomach churned and I sat up quickly. Out of all the million things I'm sure he could have said that was definitely the least expected. "What?!" I shrieked.

"This is what I meant by reacting the wrong way."

"I just don't understand. How can you love me? We haven't even known each other that long and I'm really not that loveable and I don't understand-"

I would have continued, but Phantom placed a finger against my lips. "Breathe," he advised.

I drew a ragged breath as my thoughts continued to jumble around one another. "I just don't understand."

"Love doesn't work on time frames. I loved you long before this. I could try to explain why I love you, but I can't do this. It's because you're you."

"I'm not that special," I protested, feeling myself panicking. Love. _Love._ He said he loved me.

"But you are to me. I don't think you realize how much you mean to me."

"But love? People don't fall in love as teenagers."

"Of course they do. Weren't you listening? Love doesn't work on a schedule. You fall in love when you meet someone beautiful; so beautiful that you have to catch your breath when you even think of them. Love is when I can close my eyes and map out your face on my eyelids. Love is when I know the tempo of your heartbeat better than my own. Love is when you understand me without words. Love is when I don't have to pretend for you; when you accept me for who I am and don't question beyond that. Love is when you are my first and last thought of the day – and every thought in between. You are that and more, Sam. To say I like you doesn't do _this_ justice – I am in love with you."

"Oh my god," I breathed out as I sunk into my mattress. I let all of my weight collapse into it and allowed it to hold me upright. "You're in love with me."

The words didn't feel right in my mouth. Somebody was in love with _me_. Not just someone – Phantom was in love with me. Things suddenly felt very different. I couldn't pinpoint it, but I could feel something different in the air; something different on the inside of me.

"Phantom," I began, "I think-"

He quickly silenced me. "Don't," he begged. "Whatever you were about to tell me –whether you do or don't return my feelings – I want you to be sure. I don't want an 'I think' in front of it. Can you promise me that?"

I nodded. There wasn't much I wouldn't do for him.

"Now you need to get to bed," he murmured. "It's late."

I shrugged, though now that he had mentioned bed, I was becoming more and more exhausted. "Tomorrow's only a half day," I muttered.

"That doesn't mean you don't have to rest," he replied.

Phantom pulled the blankets up around my shoulders. "Sleep babe," he whispered.

"Stay," I whispered.

"I always do," he replied with a chuckle.

And I was asleep.

(-.-)

_"Sam," said Fenton._

_ "Sam," said Phantom._

_ They were standing next to each other, creeping toward me. They were separate, and then they weren't. Fenton and Phantom began to meld together, before stretching apart, taking on each other's features. Fenton's icy eyes made Phantom's white hair look so much colder; while Phantom's green eyes under Fenton's black hair made him like cat-like. They began to come together again, fusing into one eerily similar, but grotesque, mixture of Phantom and Fenton, life and death._

_ "Sam," said Phantom._

_ "Sam," said Fenton._

(-.-)

I dragged myself up the front steps of Casper. I took a deep breath and plunged myself through the front doors. Knowing that it was a half day cheered me up slightly – I didn't have to be here as long. I headed for my locker and was just about to undo the lock, when I heard it.

_"GHOST!"_

The high-pitched scream echoed off the concrete halls, bouncing off the floors. I tensed, my bag dropping to the floor. I looked wildly for the ghost the voice had been shouting about, but I didn't see anything. There was a mad rush of students making a break for the door and I didn't think twice about joining them.

I was swept up into the crowd. There were elbows hitting me, and the heat of bodies felt suffocating, but I didn't care. My emotions were getting caught up in their panic. _I_ was beginning to panic. The students of Casper had to be used to ghost attacks by now, familiar enough with them that it didn't cause a panic every time they saw one. I was worried about what kind of ghost was in there, and if Phantom would show up. He said that he was a protector, that he fought ghosts. I didn't want him here. I didn't want him to fight, because I knew that he could be wounded and I knew I would call out for him.

That would bring unwanted attention to us both.

I broke through the front doors with a gasp. The cold air of winter smashed into my heated skin as the students separated, spreading across the lawns. The police were already there, spreading around the perimeter, attempting to keep the student body contained on the property as best they could. I took my place on a picnic table, wedged between a few other students.

"What ghost is it?" One of them, a stocky boy with bright blue hair, asked me.

I was only able to shrug. "Someone shouted ghost and I left."

"Well," the girl on the other side of me began dramatically, "I heard it was the dragon ghost!"

While the boy with blue hair scoffed and said how weak the dragon ghost was, I felt as though I was going to throw up. I'd heard nothing of the dragon ghost since my first few days in Amity. I could feel my healed scars begin to ache at the very thought of it. I didn't want to be afraid of the ghost, and I didn't think I was truly afraid. I just didn't want to get hurt again and the throb from my abdomen was telling me I would.

I was jarred from my thoughts when the girl exclaimed, "The Fenton's are here!"

I looked to see a white, chunky truck screech into Casper's driveway. There were multiple … _things_ hanging off the vehicle, several were lit up or beeping. I saw Fenton's parents come sprawling out of the vehicle. I looked at them differently now, knowing they had three children instead of the two I had met. As I watched Maddie dart into the building, some kind of weapon in hand, I could see where Phantom got his catlike movements from. As I saw Jack bumble after his wife, I also saw where he learned to love.

It was then that the cry went out. It was not a shout that made people panic again. No one was injured. No, he had arrived.

"PHANTOM'S HERE!"

There was a smattering of cheers at the news. While others accepted him as a hero, I twisted my hands together in worry. I didn't want him showing up after school with green blood showing through his gloves.

"Be safe," I whispered, though there was no way he would hear me.

"You say something?" The blue-haired boy asked me.

I shook my head. "No."

"I haven't seen you around before." The girl said, squinting at me. "You are?"

"Sam Manson."

"Hmm," she contemplated me so more. "New?"

"This year."

"I'm Tara. This is my twin, Jackass."

"It's Jackson," the blue haired boy said quickly. "Her real name is Turd."

"Excuse me?" She snapped. "Who's older?"

"By less than two minutes!"

They bickered. I stared at the school. I hadn't heard any explosions or use of weapons yet, but I was still worried for him. He was in there against a ghost (who I know he can defeat but still …) and his ghost hunting parents. I gasped. _His parents were hunting him!_ Oh. My Phantom. I wanted to hold him.

"You don't say much."

It took me a moment to realize Tara was speaking to me.

"I don't have much to say," I replied.

Jackson nodded. "I like you," he announced, slapping his hands against my jeans.

"We're hanging out." Tara told me.

"What?" My jaw slightly hung open. I wasn't even in the present; my mind was inside of the school, with him, hoping Phantom was okay.

"You free Monday?"

"No, cheer practice."

"You're a _cheerleader_?" Tara whined. "Darlin', where did you go wrong?"

"Tuesday?" Jackson suggested, talking over his sister.

"Tutoring a kid."

"At least she's smart." Tara sighed.

"Hey," I snapped, finally feeling offended.

She didn't even bother to look contrite.

"Wednesday?" Jackson distracted me.

"Sure." I agreed.

"Meet us here after school." Tara instructed, not even flinching when there came a loud _bang_ from the inside of the school.

I jolted and clutched at my chest.

"Jesus, you are new," Jackson was rolling his eyes. "That was just a Fenton Blaster."

"Blaster?" I squeaked. That sounded painful.

"Don't worry, none of their equipment will harm a human. The Fenton's completely pulverize ghosts though!" Tara grinned wickedly at the thought.

I gulped. What she had said had been _exactly_ what I had been afraid of.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: foreversky. Don't forget about the poll: Danny is winning with a 55%!**

**~TLL~**


	26. Chapter 26

I anxiously paced the length of my room. The students had been dismissed from school before I had been able to see Phantom or the Fenton's leave, but that had been nearly an hour and a half ago. What in the hell could he be doing for an hour and a half? Nothing good, that's for sure. It was stupid to worry about him, but I couldn't help it.

In a small fit of frustration, I fell face first onto my bed and groaned into my pillow. To the left of my face laid my phone, which hummed on the bed. I looked up groggily and glanced at the text.

_Dash: Hey_

_ Me: Hey. Sup?_

_ Dash: boooooored._

_ Me: Sucks. Y?_

_ Dash: im getin checked in. takes 4ever._

_ Me: At least you're there…_

_ Dash: true. I gtg they take my phone_

_ Me: k. ttyl. Hope you get better!_

I threw my phone back into the deep folds of my comforter, nestling for the luxury of my pillows. As I studied the black pillowcase I thought of Tara and Jackson. It was nice to have someone talk to me and I was definitely excited to meet up with them. Why not give people a try, right?

I dragged myself off of my bed, bored. By this point, I had completely run out of ways to entertain myself. I fiddled with the edge of my calendar for a minute, realizing that Christmas was rapidly approaching and so was Dad's arrival. Where did all the time go?

I moved away from my calendar, plucked a book from the shelf, and returned to my bed to read. I let the words wash over me, echoing in my mind. It had been so long since I had actually sat down and read a book, that I had almost forgotten how much I enjoyed it, or what it was like when a book was my only friend. I missed the adventures, these people with their wonderful quirks, and their own world. I wished I was a character. I wished that I could be sure that I would have a good outcome, that I was promised love and happiness in the end. Sadly, I was not someone's character. I was not a product of written word and someone's mind. I was a person and I was going to have to get through life without knowing the consequences.

I sighed, surfacing from the book and rubbing at my eyes. The sun was sinking, barely peeking over the horizon. My legs were stiff from being in one position too long and I rubbed at them, trying to regain feeling. I was so absorbed in my task that the knock nearly gave me a heart attack. I swung my head around quickly.

"Get in here," I half-growled when I saw Phantom just standing on my balcony.

He gave a sheepish smile as he heard my voice. He walked through the door. "Sorry it took me so long to get here."

"Are you okay? I was at the school and there was this loud _bang_ and I was so worried about you. What happened? Are you bleeding, hurt?"

"I'm fine." He curled up at the end of my bed. "A bit tired though. And that bang was a Fenton blaster –"

"Jackson told me."

Phantom's bright green eyes met mine and his cheek twitched. "I'm gonna want to know who he is later."

"Jealous?" I teased.

"A little," he admitted, begrudgingly.

"What's a Fenton blaster?" I asked, switching topics.

"It's a type of gun that was made by Fenton Works. It'll blow anything it's pointed at to pieces. Even when a blaster hits a ghost, though, the ghost will quickly reform. It didn't take me long to defeat the dragon ghost. She's very weak."

"Then what took you so long to get here?" I asked.

"I had to fight some others," he replied, stretching out across my bed diagonally so that my feet were under his back, his spine digging into my toes. "They get stirred up during any kind of holiday. Christmas is a crazy time."

"Speaking of Christmas," I mused, repositioning myself. I moved so that I was lying across his chest, "should I get you something?"

"What would I do with a Christmas gift?" He pondered.

"I was just asking," I defended myself, though I felt silly about it now. At least it took the stress away from trying to find him a gift because I was beyond lost when it came to that.

"I just want to see you on Christmas." Phantom smiled. "I don't really need anything beyond that."

"You're cute."

"_You're_ cute." Phantom countered. "Now, who is Jackson?"

"He's Tara's sister."

"And who's Tara?" He asked.

I grinned, practically feeling the impatience rolling off of him. "A girl."

"Sam, I'm gonna . . ."

"Gonna what?" I giggled.

Phantom sat up suddenly, causing me to fall back onto my mattress. I forgot how quickly he could move sometimes – far faster than my human eye could catch. I was pinned beneath him and a lot of his weight was being settled against my thigh.

"You're heavy," I grunted.

"Are you calling me fat?" He whined, genuinely looking hurt.

"Yes."

"Brat," he said, looking wounded.

"Eh," I tried to shrug but it was hard in the position I was in. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"I'm going to shut you up," he tried to sound threatening but I was just laughing at him.

"Yeah right," I snorted, rolling my eyes.

Phantom gave me a flat glare but leaned down and kissed me, effectively stealing my words.

(-.-)

"You do realize there's this thing called exams," I said slowly, staring at Fenton. I was perched at his kitchen table, drowning in a sea of math texts and sheets. He was preparing himself an 'after school snack' but looked more like what I would eat for dinner … for the next four days.

"They're not until the end of January."

"There's this thing called 'you're going to fail the class'," I continued.

"Class doesn't end until January," he said, bringing his humongous snack to the kitchen table.

"Do you care about your grade at all?" I questioned him.

Fenton looked up, a dab of peanut butter on the corner of his lip. He met my eyes and replied, "There's more important things for me to be caring about."

"Paullina?" I guessed.

"Thought you didn't like discussing personal lives?" Fenton asked, tearing through another section of his food.

"I don't mind when you're nice about it," I said.

Fenton gave me a cheeky grin that would probably make about three-quarters of the female population of Casper High swoon. "When have I not been nice?"

I glared at him.

"Fine, fine. Don't answer that. What can I say, I'm an asshole."

"I'll agree to that." I grumbled. Instead of continuing the conversation, I flipped open his binder and to the newest math sheets. "Do you know what method you use to solve these equations?"

Fenton stared at the page. "Uhh …" he frowned. "Hyperbole?"

I groaned.

(-.-)

I walked into school on Wednesday and all I heard was her name.

Paullina was back.

She, Fenton, and their entourage were all splayed out in the lobby. She was poised like a princess as people smiled and worshipped her on their way to their lockers. Despite only having an ankle boot on she was planted in a wheelchair, trying to play up the 'poor little victim' look while she still had the opportunity.

"Samantha," she sighed my name, her dark eyes settling on me. "How are you?"

I paused. "Fine." I replied shortly. "How are you feeling?"

"I could be better, thanks to your retarded friend."

"There's no need to disgrace the dead," Tucker snapped at Paullina.

"Don't tell me what to do," Paullina growled threateningly at Tucker.

I watched, confused, as Tucker turned his eyes to Fenton. Fenton glanced at his friend and slightly shook his head. I wondered what it all meant. Fenton tightened his grip on Paullina's shoulder, where he was standing over her. Starr, leaning against the wall to Paullina's right, fidgeted.

"Paully," she said in her squeaky voice, "it was a little cruel. She's gone now, can we just forget about her?"

"Just because she's dead, it does not make her a saint. It doesn't excuse what she did to me in life. I am missing important organs because of her!" Paullina glared over both shoulders, first at Tucker and then at Starr. "Don't defend her or I'll make you nobodies."

Starr immediately tightened her lips and looked upset. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Tucker didn't say a word. He crossed his arms over his chest and kept glancing at Fenton.

I went to walk passed them when Paullina's voice rang out again. "I'm getting close to the truth, slut. And when I do, your life here in Amity will be over."

I didn't turn around or acknowledge her words, but inside, my gut was twisting. What kind of truth could she be talking about? I didn't know what would happen if The Thing was found out about in Amity – the students here were not nearly as cruel or judgmental as the ones I had left behind in New Orleans. I also knew that Paullina could, single handedly, make me a complete outcast.

I didn't want to have to start over again.

(-.-)

It was afterschool and I was waiting for Jackson and Tara. She showed up first, cigarette dangling from her mouth.

"Want one?" She offered, the pack poking out of her jacket pocket.

I shook my head.

"You see Paullina today?" Tara asked.

I nodded. "First thing this morning. That's how I knew it was going to be a _perfect_ day."

"She's a right little bitch, eh? I've been on her wanted list since my first year of high school."

"What did you do?"

"I accidentally hit her in the face with a volleyball during gym class."

I laughed. "Bet that felt good."

Tara nodded. "You have no idea. Why are you on her list?"

I looked at her quizzically. "I never told you I was on her list."

She rolled her eyes. "Everyone's on her list. Besides, no one is that bitter over her unless she's done something."

I shrugged. "I exist. She doesn't need any more of a reason to hate me."

"I heard you were there when Grey beat her up."

"I was. It was scary."

"Shit. If you want, I've still got a good throwing arm." Tara pretended to heft a volleyball. "I never did pick up the game though." She smiled at me. "YO JACKASS! Walk faster."

My eyes moved to the front doors, where Jackson was coming down the steps. He was pretty far off but I could still see his middle finger snap out as a greeting to his twin.

"Queer," she muttered when he got close.

He glared at her. "Tara," he warned.

"What?" She looked at him with huge, innocent eyes. "Sam isn't going to care that you're interested in male genitalia."

Jackson blushed.

All I could offer was a weak agreement with Tara's words. "I really don't care."

"Just don't try to get up on her boyfriend." Tara said, setting off down the road. Jackson and I trailed after her, unsure of where we were even heading.

"How did you know I have a boyfriend?"

"You have a hickey on your neck, you haven't lit up my gaydar and you don't seem like the type for one night stands. Ergo, boyfriend."

My hand automatically went to my neck.

"Other side," Jackson murmured to me and I blushed. "And I doubt I'll be interested in your boyfriend."

"Oh no," Tara said sarcastically. "Because you're only interested in one person."

"Who?" I asked as Tara led us up the front steps of a house, which I assumed was hers.

"The same person that Paullina Sanchez is interested in!" Tara kicked off her shoes and headed into the kitchen.

"Fenton?" I asked, glancing at Jackson who immediately shook his head.

"No, the person that Paullina is in love with."

"Dash?" I guessed ,the only other person I could think of that Paullina would be interested in.

"God no!" Jackson mimed puking. "That buff gorilla physique doesn't do anything for me."

"Then who?" I asked.

"Don't laugh," he pleaded.

"I wouldn't," I swore.

"It's Phantom – you know, the ghost boy?" He asked.

I almost died.

**Thanks to my beta: foreversky. I don't own anything recognizable. Sorry about the delay!**

**~TLL~**


	27. Chapter 27

"The ghost boy?" I stuttered, trying to force the words out of my mouth, which had gone incredibly dry. "Why would anyone be interested in him?"

"Well he's incredibly hot," Tara said sarcastically, mimicking Jackson's voice. "And such a hero!"

"I do not sound like that!" Jackson snapped. He and Tara gathered snacks off of their kitchen counter and led me down into their basement.

"Close enough," Tara replied. "All you ever talk about is Phantom."

We all settled on the couch with Jackson sitting in the middle. As Tara flicked through the channels and Jackson sorted out snacks, I chose my words carefully.

"I don't mean to offend, if I do," I began, "but why would you like him?"

"What do you mean?" Jackson asked. "I like him because he's a hero and he's handsome. He's got such a good soul."

"Do you know him?" I pressed, "talk to him?"

Aside from Paullina, I hadn't heard many people talk in depth about Phantom. Sometimes there were arguments that broke out, as some people saw him as the hero he was, while others argued about the bad deeds he had allegedly done – that he was a villain. It was definitely an interesting experience to hear someone talk about him like Jackson and I were doing; almost on a personal level. I just wanted to see Jackson's perspective, and I sort of felt like I was lying. Phantom was my boyfriend, I knew more about him than I was letting on.

"No," Jackson shook his head while Tara snorted.

"He wishes. Every time he hears of a Phantom fight, he wants to go. Whenever we're near where Phantom is fighting, he's sitting there hoping that Phantom will come over and talk to him."

I narrowed my eyes. "Have you guys always lived in Amity?"

"Since we were, like, two." Tara said, settling on a talk show that was centered on a paternity crisis.

"Why?" Jackson asked, looking at me suspiciously.

"So when Phantom was alive, did you know him?"

The question made the twins pause. Jackson passed a hand through his uniquely coloured hair and Tara's jaw dropped slightly.

"I don't know. No one in town has ever died young, not young like Phantom is anyways." Tara said, though slowly, forging a way through her answer. "He's only about seventeen, and he's been around for what, four years?"

"Three," Jackson corrected her while I stopped myself from doing so.

"So if he was seventeen when he died, and we're seventeen now, we would have been about fourteen when he passed." Tara calculated. "We would have already been in Casper high and no one from the graduated year passed away."

"It wouldn't have mattered – Amity's a small town. If anyone passed, the whole town would know. And no teenagers passed in Phantom's time frame," Jackson added. "But it's weird, now that you mention it. I always thought that he came from Amity, but I guess it can't be true."

"Interesting," I mused, but there was an unidentifiable sinking feeling appearing in the pit of my stomach. "But why?"

"Why what?" Jackson asked, glancing at me.

"Why would you like him? He's dead." I choked on the word. I wasn't entirely sure about asking this question, as it was something that was bothering me about mine and Phantom's relationship recently. I had never thought of it as weird, as he was more human than I was at times, but somehow it was starting to reach me on a different level, that I was living and he was dead and that had _never_ occurred before.

"It's creepy is what it is," Tara sighed. "Especially when you put it like that. Necrophilia!"

"It's not about the condition our bodies are in –"

"It's about you freakishly idolizing a dead person," Tara said under her breath.

"Shut up!" Jackson said forcefully. "I like him because of how I see him as a person!"

"How you see him!" Tara repeated with a laugh, looking me in the eye. "You don't actually know him, which is why you should get rid of this little fantasy."

Jackson shook his head forcefully. "I _want_ to get to know him as a person."

"So," I ventured, "you don't see him being dead as weird?"

Jackson gladly turned his back on his sister. "No. Just like I don't view being gay as weird. Just because it's not what society is used to doesn't mean it's wrong. And he isn't a dead body; he's still a person. He is still someone who can fall in love, who has a beautiful personality, and who can be a role model."

"Gag me with a spoon." Tara growled. "I am not listening to you go on with this ridiculous obsession. Do you remember how sick you were when Paullina kept going on about him?"

"Only because I wanted him." Jackson snapped back. "And Paullina is an annoying bitch. She and Daniel Fenton deserve each other."

"Only because you thought Fenton was gay in middle school and tried to hit on him," Tara shot back.

"Why do you always need to belittle me?" Jackson shouted at her.

"Maybe because you make stupid choices!"

"And fucking the entire football team was a _smart_ decision?"

I stood up from the couch, biting my lip. "I should go," I murmured.

"Oh!" Tara jolted to her feet. "I'm sorry, we get a bit carried away sometimes. We can be nice to one another, honest."

"We don't mean to scare friends away," Jackson added, his tone full of remorse.

"You aren't," I assured him, though I was starting to feel very awkward sitting in their basement, listening to them argue. "My father arrives tomorrow from New Orleans and I promised to help my mother prepare the house."

"Well I guess we can let you leave then," Tara cracked a smile. "Are you sure we didn't scare you off?"

"No," I shook my head. "I'm sure."

"So you'll hang out with us again?" Jackson pressed, though I avoided eye contact. Something about knowing he wanted Phantom made me feel a little strange. I'd eventually get over it – he couldn't be the only one that wanted the town hero – I was just feeling insecure about my relationship, as I felt insecure over most things.

"Sure," I smiled. "The Christmas break is going to be getting really busy for me, but we can definitely try to work something out."

"Great." Tara fell back into the couch. "Jackson's the only one of us with a phone so give him your number."

I did as she said, quickly programming my number into Jackson's contact list. "I'll see you guys around," I said, tossing his phone back to him, which he barely caught.

"Definitely!" They said in unison.

I nodded once again before taking to the streets. The walk home was quick, but cold. When I arrived home, Mother was in full cleaning mode.

"I've been dusting and vacuuming," she said with a huff. "I've also been doing laundry."

I looked around the large home, which had a new, clean sparkle to it. I was rather impressed with the amount my mother could accomplish when she put her mind to it, especially considering she barely looked at a dustpan when she didn't have to.

"I would like you to go pick up some Chinese food – take your car, the roads shouldn't be that icy. When you get back, we'll eat and then I would like you to make up the bed in your father's room and clean your own."

My head jacked up. "You and Dad aren't staying in the same room?" I met her eyes – blue unlike my own purple. She looked sad.

"No, honey, we aren't."

"But why?" I knew that they had been separated for so long, and it wasn't as easy as the movies made it seem; they couldn't just fall into each other's arms and expect everything to be like it was in New Orleans. But I had been picturing what life would be like with them under the same roof, happy, and curled in each other's embrace. I swallowed, feeling five years old. My parents would always be my parents and their relationship would always seem beautiful and unbreakable; anything to contradict that just drove painfully into my soul.

"Nothing you should be worried over." She smiled, but her facial muscles were tight. I knew that look – she was upset.

"Should I be though?" I pressed, not knowing where the line was. My parents had never really discussed their relationship with me. "You guys aren't getting a divorce or anything, are you?"

Mother's hand flew to her mouth. "Goodness, no, Samantha. Your father and I have just been apart a very long time, and we do have a lot to discuss; separation is hard on a couple, even when they love each other. And I do love your father, very much so. Divorce is never something that I would think of, and I don't think he would ever go to that place either."

"Good," I breathed. "Because I hate the thought of you two becoming another statistic."

Mother grinned wryly. "We all are," she muttered. I brightened a little on the inside – she had sounded like me. I was never in sync with my parents but sometimes Mother let her guard slip the tiniest bit and showed me where I really came from. "Chinese food," she prompted.

"I'm going!" I said, heading back out the door, "don't let the feather duster kill you."

"Wouldn't dream of it!"

(-.-)

For the first time in a long time, I was curled up in bed alone. I forgot just when it had become routine to fall asleep with Phantom next to me, but now that he wasn't here I found that I was missing it. It did give me some time to sort out my thoughts though – mostly about what Jackson and Tara had said.

Phantom had always given me the impression that he was from Amity. The fact that he had admitted to being a Fenton further supported the claim. I vaguely recalled Jazz telling me that she had grown up in Amity when I was talking about being new. Even if Phantom was her older brother, he would still have had to grow up here too, as ghosts don't age. Nothing was adding up.

I flipped over, the blankets tangling around my limbs. I didn't like questioning Phantom – what kind of girlfriend did that make me? What kind of person did that make me? I wanted to accept everything he said. I wanted to believe that he wasn't lying to me. But did that make me stupid? I didn't want to be a suspicious, cynical person (I had a hard enough time with other humans as it was) but I didn't want to be the naïve girl either.

I should just be upfront with Phantom about it. There was no excuse for lying to me, especially when I had been nothing but honest with him. I couldn't think of a time that I had lied to him except for the tidbit from the kid from New Orleans which had turned out to be me. I thought that I could be excused for that one, considering the true details.

I closed my eyes, not feeling content.

(-.-)

_ "Sam."_

_ "Sam."_

_ "Sam."_

_ "Sam."_

_ "Sam."_

_ "Sam."_

_ My name was on repeat. Green and blue, black and white, flashed in dots around me. I was stumbling around, looking for solid ground, something to stand on. Paullina's wild cackle filled my ears, rising over the chanting of my name._

_ "Mine!" Paullina's accent boomed. "Forever mine."_

_ I suddenly felt very alone. I felt as though I were back in my bedroom, those pills filling my stomach, dragging me down toward the escape I craved. I was overwhelmed with those feelings as they crashed over me. I was drowning; I was flying. I was crying; I was smiling. I was everything all at once but I was also so very empty._

I woke up crying.

**Thanks to my lovely beta: foreversky.** **I don't own anything recognizable. Don't forget to vote on the poll: Danny's companion is winning with a 52%**

**~TLL~**


	28. Chapter 28

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me, Samantha?" Mother asked as she bounced around the house, searching frantically for her keys. They were in the large purse she had dangling from her arm, but I wasn't about to tell her that yet.

"No." I shook my head. "It's much too early for me to be going anywhere."

It was four o'clock in the morning. I wouldn't even be awake if it hadn't been for mother being so loud. She was worse than a parade of elephants barreling around the house.

"All right, if you're sure. Once your father arrives we'll be back as soon as possible."

I nodded, not paying close attention. I was sluggishly propping myself up on the kitchen counter, wondering if I could just fall back in bed or if I would have to make myself a cup of coffee.

"Argh!" Mother yelped, slapping her leather gloves down onto the counter next to me. I jumped from the unexpected noise.

"What?" I was retreating back to my bedroom, shuffling my feet inside of my fluffy slippers.

"My keys!"

"Check your purse," I advised, stumbling to the stair railing and propelling myself up the steps.

"Oh good! Found them," Mother sang. "We should be back in a couple of hours at most."

"Okay." I agreed, already upstairs. I heard the far off click of the front door closing before shutting my own door. I closed my eyes, tripped toward my bed, and fell on something that was definitely _not_ my mattress.

Groaning, I dragged my eyes open. Phantom was peering back at me.

"Hi," he grinned.

"Shut up." I told him, curling away from his cold body and burrowing under the warmth of my blanket. "Sleep."

"All right, I'll go."

I rolled my eyes, grabbed his hands and fluffed my comforter over him as well. He settled his arms around my waist, bringing my body as close to his as possible.

"Sleep," I commanded him, not intentionally sounding mean. I was just exhausted.

"I love you," he told me, kissing my temple.

I pulled his hand into mine, squeezing my eyes shut, not knowing what to say.

(-.-)

I woke only a few short hours later at eight o'clock. I fully expected Mother and Dad to be back yet, but when I pulled my blinking phone toward me I received the news that Dad wasn't even in Amity yet. His plane had been delayed by a freak snow storm in New Orleans.

_Mother: For all of the days to snow in New Orleans! I will wait a little while longer to see if his status changes. I will text you any updates._

_ Me: Take your time. Everything is fine here._

I placed my phone back on my bedside table. I flipped over to face Phantom.

He smiled widely. "Hey, beautiful."

"I missed you last night," I confessed, dancing my fingers up and down his suit, tracing his chest muscles underneath.

"Sorry," Phantom apologized. "I just needed to take care of a few things."

"A few things like what?" I prodded. "Were you out fighting all night?"

"I told you – ghosts get stirred up around human holidays." Phantom shrugged, the sheets rustling against the motion. "I think they miss being human."

"Do you miss being human?" I asked. My thoughts from last night – the inconsistencies of Phantom – came flooding back to me. I couldn't _not_ talk about it. I loathed questioning him but I had to quench my curiousity.

"Where did that come from?" Phantom, who had been leaning into my touch, suddenly pulled away. He sat up slightly, balancing himself on his elbow.

"I'm just asking. You always talk about ghosts and humans like you're neither."

Phantom studied my face. "I remember my human life so well for a ghost. It makes me feel different from the rest of them. And they're so destructive, they aren't human in the least, but I want to be. On the flip side of that, no, I'm not human and it would be unfair of me to pretend. I don't identify with either because I want to be human, but I'm not."

I rubbed my feet against one another, biting on my lip. "Why do you remember better than the other ghosts?"

"Because I try? Most of the ghosts that come out of the ghost portal never knew Amity when they were alive. I'm constantly being stimulated by the people I knew in life, by the places I knew. I remember because it almost feels as though I never left."

"But you did leave." I pointed out. "And there has to be so much that has changed since you died, what, three years ago?"

"Three years." He confirmed with a nod. "And yes, a lot has changed. I've had to let go of a lot of people who are still living because I can't talk to them –"

"Stop," I whispered, and I didn't even realize I said anything until Phantom obeyed me. "I know you're lying to me."

"Lying to you?" Phantom bolted upright. "_Lying_ to you?"

"Yes." I sat up as well, crossing my arms against my chest. "I don't want to fight about it but I need to have a conversation about it."

"Fine," Phantom spat, mimicking my pose. He was obviously upset; his muscles were tight, he was fidgeting, and his facial expression was angry and broken at the same time. "How in the hell am I lying to you?"

"Your story doesn't add up-"

"My _story_? It's not like I'm feeding you lines, Sam. It's not like I'm a character in book whose backstory the author has forgotten! I'm a person. I've told you what I've felt and who I am."

"But it doesn't make sense! No one knows about you. No one has heard of your death. I just … there are inconsistencies, Phantom. And I don't know what to think of it. I want to trust you, I want to be able to believe everything you say, but I can't."

"What kind of inconsistencies?" Phantom demanded.

"If you died at seventeen, three years ago, how come no one knows about you? Your parents are well known in the community so your death would have been publicized, especially in a small town. And don't tell me that you aren't from Amity because Jazz told me that she's always been here so you would have been here to die. And while we're on the topic, why would it take you so long to just give me your name, _Jack_?"

Phantom flinched. "I don't even know how to respond to this. I feel like I'm being attacked."

"I'm not attacking you. But I need answers. I need an explanation."

"Because you don't trust me."

"I trust you. I trust you enough to know there's a good explanation for this and that it's not just you flat out lying to me. So, why are you avoiding the subject?"

"I'm not avoiding the subject. The truth is that I didn't tell you the whole truth –"

I snorted. "Obviously."

Sometimes I couldn't stop myself from being a total brat.

"I haven't been dead three years. I've just been in Amity for three years. And I stay human because I obsess and rerun the memories I have from my life. I didn't tell you the whole thing because I liked you from the moment I saw you and getting you to talk to me would be hard enough knowing that I was dead. Let alone knowing that I've been dead for decades!"

"Decades?" I repeated, brow creasing.

"Yes, decades."

"So you aren't Fenton's brother?" I said, pointing out another one of his lies.

"No. I am his father's cousin, who died years before Fenton was born – before his mother and father even met."

I closed my eyes tightly, feeling my face scrunch. I dug my fingers into my sides and attempted to think. "You promise that it's the truth?" I asked. "You primrose that it's _not_ a lie this time?"

"I promise. You won't find another lie."

I opened my eyes, looking at him. I studied every line of the face that I knew so well, the body that lay against mine. I looked into the eyes of the boy I cared about so much – the boy who said he loved me. I tipped forward so that I was holding him, and he held me in return.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," he stuttered into my ear. "I didn't think, at the beginning, that you would like me if I told you the truth. I should have known better, I really should have."

"Just, tell me the truth from now on? If you have anything else to tell me, tell me now Phantom."

"There's nothing Sam. That was it. I'm sorry it took you investigating on your own in order for me to be honest."

"It's okay." I ran my hand through his white hair.

"I love you," he said.

In response, I kissed him.

(-.-)

"How curious," Phantom mused, stopping at the top of the steps. "I've never seen the rest of your house before."

"Well I have to start making some lunch for my parents and myself, so if you want to continue talking to me you're going to have to come downstairs."

I began to descend, knowing that he was still stationary with his hand resting on the banister.

"But if feels weird," Phantom protested.

"It's stairs." I said, turning the corner into the kitchen. "They won't bite."

I began rummaging around the kitchen for the ingredients for vegetarian lasagna.

"Sam," Phantom called, his voice echoing. He was still at the top of the stairs.

I giggled. "My parents will be back in about half an hour. You can leave now if you want."

There was no response at all. Yet, when I turned around, Phantom was hovering above the tile floor of the kitchen, struggling to take in everything.

"This is a fridge," I said, pointing to the object he had fixated on. "I thought you were from this century."

"I am." Phantom sighed. "Your house is just so big and expensive looking."

"Not as bad as some. You should see Paullina Sanchez's mansion. My house could easily fit in there at least twice."

Phantom ignored my comment, gently lowering himself to the floor, onto his own two feet. "What're you making?"

"Vegetarian lasagna."

"You are missing an important food group." Phantom sighed, taking over the cutting of the vegetables without me even asking him too.

"I don't think I'm missing anything at all," I told him, opening the lasagna noodles.

"All right, all right," Phantom shook his head. "I won't argue with you. But if I actually ate and you tried to feed me something meatless I would probably throw a tantrum."

"I bet you were cute as a child," I said, taking the vegetables from him.

"Some might say I hit my peak at seventeen," Phantom commented suggestively.

"And who would say such a thing?" I asked, preheating the oven. I always forgot to heat the oven.

"Oh you know, some people," Phantom came up behind me, placing his lips to my neck. I erupted with goose bumps.

"Is there someone I should be jealous of?" I asked.

"Hmmm, I've got fan girls _all_ over the place," Phantom informed me.

"Fan _boys_ too," I added, thinking of Jackson. "I know one that's in love with you."

"Pretty sure Paullina Sanchez is female … and has a boyfriend."

"You remember Jackson and Tara?"

"You mentioned them – is he someone I should be jealous over?"

"He's someone that _I_ should be jealous over. He _likes_ you."

I felt Phantom draw away from me a little. "That's awkward."

"How is it awkward? It's a person with feelings for you, same as Paullina."

"That situation is even more awkward," he snorted. "It's not because it's a boy having feelings for me. It's because I'm in love with a girl who he's friends with."

"Not that anyone knows about us," I added.

"No," Phantom agreed, his voice sad. "How could they?"

**Just to get the poll straightened out with some readers: you cannot vote through reviewing. You must go to my profile, click 'vote now' at the top of my page and choose one option. You only get to vote once. The poll closes when this story is over. The choice with the most votes at that point of time will be the winner. At this point in time, Danny's companion story is winning with 53% of the votes.**

**Thank you to my beta foreversky. I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks for reading!**

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	29. Chapter 29

"Oh fuck," I murmured under my breath, straightening up from placing the lasagna in the casserole.

"What?" Phantom asked, lounging across one of the stools that we kept at the island.

"Mother's social calendar." I was standing in front of the fridge inspecting said calendar. It was covered in Mother's cramped, spiky handwriting that resembled mine very closely.

"Was it being mean to you?" Phantom teased. "You can always just hit it back."

"Hilarious," I replied sarcastically. "But seriously, look at these dates she's got lined up in the next week."

Phantom groaned. "You're making me get up?" He whined, but he complied. He fluidly slid off the stool and came to my side, looking at the calendar with me. "What am I looking at?"

I pointed to today's date. "Dad gets home here." I moved to the next day. "And then we have a formal dance at the Richmond's." I moved to the next day, Christmas Eve. "And then we have a formal dinner followed by a formal dance at the Sanchez's." I skipped Christmas day, which was blank, and landed on Boxing Day. "And here we have a formal brunch at the Sanchez's."

Phantom tucked me in against his chest. "And you don't want to go, I take it?"

"I don't even know who the Richmond's _are_. I don't want to get dressed up and be stuck in a room with people I don't know or like." I rolled my eyes. "The Richmond's have to be upper class in order for my mother to even consider going there. Not to mention it's guaranteed Paullina will be there with her little boy toy hanging off her arm."

"Didn't you say you liked that boy toy's sister?" Phantom prompted, trying to make me feel better. "Maybe she'll be there."

"I hope so." I muttered. "I just don't want to be stuck alone there."

"Hmm. Imagine the stir I'd cause if I tried to walk through the front door. 'Excuse me sir, you can't come in here; you're not wearing your monkey suit'."

I choked out a laugh. "So many people think you're a hero that I'm quite sure they would just let you walk in."

"A lot of people hate me too. They think I'm a menace and I'm destroying the town."

"You're not destroying anything," I said, running my hand across his lower abdomen.

Phantom sucked in a breath. "Sam," he growled, making my name a warning.

"What?" I asked innocently, though I knew very well what I was doing.

"You –" he began but the ringing of my cell phone cut him off.

"Sorry," I said, smiling at him as I answered my phone. "Hello?"

"Hello Sam," my mother said. "We will be home in ten minutes. Did you make up some lunch?"

"I put lasagna in the oven. It should be done shortly."

"Thanks darling! See you soon."

I put the phone done, hanging it up.

"You have to go," I told Phantom.

"Why?" He met my eyes, looking sad.

"My parents are going to be here in a minute. And, as much as I would love to sit through that introduction, I just don't see it happening."

"I'd have to agree with you there." Phantom smiled, pulling me into a hug. "What time is that Richmond thing tomorrow?"

"Why? Planning on crashing?"

"No . . . I love seeing you all dressed up for events." Phantom stroked a hand up and down my spine. "I wanna see you in a pretty dress."

"We're leaving here at seven." I told him. "So if you want to see me, you're going to have to be here before that."

"I'm not so good with time," Phantom admitted, smirking as he brushed my hair out of my face. "But I'll be here to see you."

"You have to go," I insisted, pushing on his chest.

Phantom leaned down, kissing me deeply. I kissed him back, my nails digging into his shoulders. I finally had to drop away from him, breathing heavily. Phantom's mouth went to my ear, "I love you, Sam."

I gave him a final squeeze, his ribs digging into the flesh of my arms. Then, he was gone.

I didn't even have a full minute to myself before the front door opened. My entire body seized up. I already knew that my father didn't forgive me for what I had tried to do myself, but could he truly hate me? What would he do when he saw me? I clenched my fists together, trying to rid my body of the nervousness that was suddenly plaguing me. I heard footsteps approaching and my stomach started climbing into my throat.

"Samantha!" Mother said, sticking her head around the doorway of the kitchen. "How is the lasagna?"

"Fifteen more minutes."

"Come into the living room then." Mother told me. "I will set the table in the dining room."

"Dining room," I repeated blankly. Mother and I hadn't used the dining room since we had moved in. She had used it when she had friends over, but when it was just the two of us we either ate separately or sat at opposite ends of the island for our meal. I couldn't even remember the last time I had set foot in the dining room. "I can set it; no need to trouble yourself."

Mother looked at me, and I could tell from the look in her eyes that she knew exactly what I was thinking. She knew that I knew that my father hated me.

"Samantha, he's waiting to see you."

"But I don't think he actually wants to," I admitted quietly. "I heard you on the phone with him one night. You had to tell him that I wasn't disgusting."

"Oh, Samantha." Mother came into the kitchen completely, wrapping her slender arms around me. "He loves you, baby, he truly does. He just didn't know how to respond – and neither did I. We didn't see it coming. I think that says more about us than it does about you.

"But not seeing you for so long probably didn't help either. I think you just need to sit down and talk to him."

"What if he continues to hate me?"

"He doesn't hate you. He's your father. He'll never hate you."

"I feel like he does." I confided, only just realizing how deeply I feared my father's rejection. I had always been the center of his universe – there was nowhere I wouldn't have gone with my father. Now, I wasn't what he expected me to be and I didn't know how to face him.

I felt as though I had failed him.

"Go," Mom said, releasing me from our long embrace. "The lasagna will be done soon."

I swallowed, heading for the living room on shaking legs.

My father stood stoically across from the couch, looking out the window facing the backyard. I could only see the outline of him, but it didn't appear as though he had changed any. It struck me as odd that he looked the same – weren't people supposed to physically look different after long separations? Dad turned around, and I met his eyes.

"Hi, Daddy." I whispered.

"Hello, Samantha." He greeted in return.

He made no move to hug me. I wanted to run to him, have his arms envelop me like I was six years old again. I wanted to make it okay. I didn't know how to do that and I didn't feel as though it was my responsibility to take the first step toward him.

"You grew your hair out," Dad observed.

"I like it longer," I answered, reaching up to self-consciously touch my hair. I had forgotten that, the last time my father saw me, my hair barely touched my shoulders.

"It's nice." Dad said.

We stood there for another long minute until Mother called out that the lasagna was ready to eat.

(-.-)

"And make sure you pick out something very fancy!" Mother yelled up the stairs to me. "I'm talking about a _gown_, Samantha."

"Yes, Mother!" I yelled in return. I shut my door and shook out my wet hair. I would pick out my dress and then worry about the hair dryer.

I stepped into my walk-in closet, eyeing the garment bags up and down. I didn't want to put any of them on. I grabbed the first one closest to me, unzipped it a little to make sure it was a ball gown, and took it to my bathroom. I hooked it on the door and left it hanging while I did my hair and make-up. I pulled my bangs back and left the rest of my dark hair down, sweeping around my shoulders. I put on red lipstick, chosen to match the shade of my dress. I put on mascara and left my make-up at that. I put studs into my ears and looped a thin chain around my neck.

I eyed myself in the mirror, making sure that I looked all right from the shoulders up. I definitely looked dressy. Looking away from the mirror, I concentrated on untying the knot I had put in the belt of my housecoat. The soft material gave way under my fingers, and I slipped my housecoat off. I looked back to the mirror, looking at my body for the briefest moment before looking away, tugging on my underclothes and reaching for the garment bag.

My dress was a red ball gown with a sweetheart neckline. The bodice was decorated with silver sequins that lined the top of the dress and crisscrossed across my chest and stomach, as well as along the bottom of the bodice and the top of the skirt. It was more understated than the turquoise attire I had worn during one of my last times out; that dress had been designed to stand out. I had a feeling that I was going to be more comfortable in this dress than I had in the other.

I slipped on the red ball gown, running my hands along the smooth skirt. I loved big, swishy, skirts. They made me feel like a princess – something I had never really wanted to be as a child but a feeling that never failed to make me smile. I took the small heels out of the bottom of the garment bag. They were also the same colour as the dress. I matched from head to toe.

I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. The expression looked artificial, even when I was just looking at myself. I hoped Mother wasn't expecting me to show genuine emotion at the Richmond's. I brushed my hand against my bare shoulder and thought of how I would have to take a moment to find my faux white fur coat. I wasn't even going to risk running to the car without this much skin showing. I would probably freeze to death.

I opened my door, stepping into my room with the intention of going to my closet and digging out my coat. When I stepped out of the bathroom, however, there came a low whistle from my bed.

"I thought you would look good, just not _that_ good."

I smiled, turning to see Phantom. This expression was real. Nothing about me when I was with Phantom was fake. He was the only person I could be myself around and that meant the world to me.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," I told him, batting my eyelashes at him like the girls in the movies do.

"Everywhere?" Phantom questioned in a deep voice, doing his best to look seductive.

I giggled. "You're cute. I'd kiss you but I don't have time to redo my lipstick."

Phantom rolled off my bed, coming to stand next to me. He slipped an arm around my waist, another around the back of my neck. I shivered from the cold contact. "But," he protested, "I think that's my colour."

In response, I kissed him lightly. "I think you're right."

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my lovely beta: foreversky. Don't forget to go to my profile and vote on the poll: Danny's companion is still in the lead at 54%**

**~TLL~**


	30. Chapter 30

I had been at the Richmond's approximately twelve minutes and I was already considering stabbing myself with a fork – not out of any desire to feel pain but in the hope that an injury might get me sent home. There was also the fact that if I stabbed myself with a fork, I might not want to stab Paullina with said fork. I doubted it would go over very well with Mother if I stabbed her best friend's daughter with a fork.

It was tempting though.

Paullina had arrived moments after I did, red carpet ready as always. The wheelchair was gone, and whatever injuries she had sustained from Valerie seemed to have long since disappeared. She was wearing a black dress with a halter top and no back. I swore at times I could see the top of her thong peeking out from her dress. Half of her ribs were also exposed, as the lines of the dress cut very shallowly around her breasts. There were jewels on her halter top, coming down in a thick line beside her breasts, stopping at mid-thigh. Her hair was pulled half up; a bun sitting on her head with curls cascading from it down to her lower back.

Watching her as she twirled with Starr (Fenton had yet to make an appearance), I was almost jealous. It was a hard thing for me to admit – being jealous over Paullina. But I was. She looked like she was having bountiful fun and made it seem so easy. A huge grin was plastered on her face as she blew kisses to Kwan who enthusiastically jumped for them. With the way Starr was watching the interaction; I had to wonder if she was also jealous.

"Hello, Sam."

I almost jumped at the small voice that sounded next to me. I glanced to my left, to find a skinny, blond boy looking back at me. I struggled to remember who he was.

"Mikey!" I burst out with a gasp, recognizing him from another painful gathering. "How are you?"

He gave a small smile. "I'm doing all right, I guess."

"The home-schooling?" I pressed, hoping that I was remembering him correctly.

From the way his face brightened at me recalling the detail, I assumed that I got it right. "I'm almost finished with school."

"Lucky," I told him sincerely. I couldn't wait to be done with high school.

"Are you still with your boyfriend?" Mikey asked, toying with the sleeves on his jacket.

"Yeah," I said, smiling.

"Cool." Mikey bit his lip awkwardly.

"So," I fished around for a topic. "How did you get dragged here?"

Mikey chuckled. "Mom wouldn't let me hide in my room while we had guests."

I gasped. "You live here?" This house could rival Paullina's and it definitely outshone my own. The Richmond's – Mikey's family – obviously had money.

"Yup," Mikey confirmed. "I like the house – I get a _huge_ bedroom which is a definite plus."

"But …" I couldn't stop myself from saying the words, "Money is everything to Paullina. Why were you bullied?"

Mikey shrugged. "I'm small and weak. I'm an obvious geek. I never had a chance." He met my eyes. "Your family obviously has money. Why are you bullied?"

I gaped. "I … I never said that I was –"

Mikey cut off my stuttering. "You didn't have to. You had the look."

"The look?"

"When you were looking at Paullina it was like you couldn't decide whether you wanted to be her or kill her." Mikey gave a bitter laugh. "It's how I used to feel when I looked at Dash. And how I feel when I look at Danny now."

I followed Mikey's line of sight. The Fenton family had arrived. Jack was dressed in a tux – though I swore I could see a flash of orange peeking out from under his collar. Maddie was clinging to his arm in a gorgeous dress that I instantly loved. It was made of grey silk that fell perfectly around her ankles. There was some sort of sparkle along the top of her breasts. More grey silk made cross-crossing straps across her collarbones, keeping her dress up. She smiled warmly at her husband as they descended into the crowd.

Coming up behind them were Jazz and Fenton. Fenton was dressed in a suit, mirroring his father. Like her mother, Jazz was dressed to shine. Her dress picked up the low lighting in the room, throwing off sparkles. She was dressed in a light blue strapless gown – the shape of which echoed mine. Sparkles covered the bodice and came down the center of her dress to the very tip of the skirt. On her skirt was a light blue covering that flowed about her, leaving only the triangle of sparkles showing. She also had a small bow at the top of the light blue covering, sitting at about belly button level. She was dazzling as they followed in their parent's footsteps.

"I think what I hate the most," Mikey says quietly, "is that he was once my friend."

"I'm sorry," I said, automatically. The look on his face was enough to bring me to tears.

"Don't be," Mikey brushed off my apology, drawing in a deep breath. "I have to go see my parents, talk to a few people. I'll come see you later, all right?"

I nodded with understanding, watching him disappear into the crowd of people. I searched briefly for my parents, but gave up as I realized that it would be impossible to locate them by sight alone. Besides, I quickly became distracting again as someone else appeared at my side.

Tucker.

I tried to reign in my sense of déjà vu.

"Can I talk to you?" Tucker asked, not looking at me but instead staring at his shoes.

"Didn't we already try this?" I asked him. "Didn't you apologize and then turn around and call me a loser?"

"You have the memory of an elephant," Tucker told me. "Yes. I did try to apologize before, but I wasn't being sincere then."

"And I should believe you now because …?"

"Because now I'm being sincere?" Tucker shrugged. "I guess you shouldn't buy into anything I say now. I was just thinking that you would understand."

I let out a long sigh. "Let's not pretend. Let's be real, okay?" I didn't wait for him to respond. "You don't really have anything to say to me. Either someone put you up to coming over here or you're just doing it for your own twisted enjoyment – neither of which is okay. I'm sick of being pushed around by you people –"

"Don't say you people," Tucker interrupted angrily, green eyes flashing. "I cannot be one of them anymore. When I was younger, I was always striving to be one of the popular kids. I wanted more than anything to be one of them because if I was one of them, I wouldn't be pushed around, I wouldn't spend half my time in a locker, I would get to go to all the parties, I would get to live the good life.

"Yeah, I got in, after spending my entire school career fighting for it. And, in the end, I was just piggy backing on Danny because he's the one that everyone loves! I was his best friend, but after he started dating Paullina, after everything, I became nothing to him. I was in with the popular kids, but I still wasn't one of them. And I'm sick of being run over, pushed around, and all for nothing! They're people that don't give two shits about me.

"I don't care about being popular anymore. I don't care that they'll push me around. I miss who I was. I miss being able to have friends that don't judge me on what I wear or who I talk to. I miss being able to carry my PDA around and not have anyone laugh in my face. Technology was my life – I was going to be an inventor, I was going to get somewhere. They put me down if I did anything but go on Facebook! I played along, followed their game, but I don't want to be a player – I'm through.

"So don't say you people. Because I was never one of them."

I stared at him, speechless. To be honest, I had never stopped to consider Tucker in any great detail. He was just Fenton's friend; Fenton's lapdog. It was a horrible feeling to realize that I had never stopped and taken a moment to view Tucker as his own person, as someone independent from the popular people, as an individual who felt as trapped by the high school hierarchy as I did.

"What about Fenton? Isn't he your best friend?"

Tucker shook his head forcefully. "Danny was my best friend since I was a child; I would have trusted him with my life. But he isn't who I thought he was – he's changed so much. And unless he comes back around, I can't continue being friends with him."

There was something broken in Tucker's eyes; some deep well of pain that I couldn't bear to look at. He cared about Fenton, deeply. From the outside looking in, I would liken the pain to that of someone who had just lost a brother.

"I'm sorry." I said, my mouth dry. I didn't know what else I could offer to him.

Tucker took a deep breath. "Danny will come around – he's always been a bit slow."

"That's nice," I observed, "that you still have faith in him."

Tucker shrugged again. "Danny's never had faith in himself. I've always had to hold it for him. I guess old habits die hard."

I nodded with sympathy.

"Tucker," I said suddenly before I ever thought about my idea, "would you like to dance?"

Tucker looked out at the dance floor, eyes locking on Fenton and Paullina. His hands were roaming over her back, dipping to the thong line. I had to avert my eyes because I thought I was going to throw up. I looked instead at Tucker, whose dark face had hardened and twisted into something I didn't understand.

"Yes," he said, taking my hand. "I would love to dance, Sam."

He led me out so that we were precariously close to Fenton and Paullina and Starr and Kwan. Tucker held me close to him as we spun in circles. Sometimes he would drop me into a dip, or twirl me out to the very end of our outstretched arms, before bringing me back into his chest.

I never noticed the look on Fenton's face.

(-.-)

I had never been so thankful to be home. My feet ached from a night of dancing – I don't think I've ever done so much. While Tucker held onto me most of the evening (where I stated, several times, that I was seeing someone; his response was always 'I know'), I had a few dances with Mikey, who had seemed startled when I asked. The awkward car rides there and back caused adrenaline to fill my veins as I anticipated a heart-breaking response from my father. He didn't, of course. He didn't say a single word to me.

I carefully took off my shoes and dress, placing them back in the garment bag. I wiped off my make-up and gratefully climbed into bed.

Just as I was switching off my lamp, Phantom materialized.

"How was the Richmond's?" He drawled, climbing in bed next to me.

"Better than expected. I didn't get to speak to Jazz but she'll probably be at the Sanchez's, so I'll get to see her then. I also got to speak to Tucker. I never thought I would consider that a bonus but it was."

"Tucker." Phantom repeated in a flat tone.

"And I got to talk to Mikey again!"

"Mikey. Tucker."

I laughed, reaching up to squeeze Phantom's cheeks, making his lips puff out like a fish's. "Don't be jealous," I scolded lightly. "You know I love you."

I could feel Phantom's jaw tense under my hand at my words. I, realizing what I said, also froze. Phantom was the first to move, reaching up with his hand and pulling my own away from his face.

"Sam," he said, cradling my hand, "please tell me that wasn't just a word choice." His eyes were burrowing into mine and I raced through my thoughts quickly.

It _wasn't_ just a word choice. I couldn't deny it anymore – run away from the feelings because I was young and he was the first person I had ever held like this. I couldn't be scared of my own emotions, because I deserved to say the words and he deserved to hear them.

"I love you," I told him, and said it again because the words felt so right. "I love you."

Phantom smiled, the expression creeping over his face and take over every inch of his body. "I love you too," he gasped, near breathless.

He swooped around me, arms going around my waist, lifting me to him. His lips peppered along mine, along my cheeks, and collarbones. He laughed out loud, bringing me in for a passionate kiss. "I love you too," he whispered again.

I kissed him back, falling asleep smiling.

**I've gotten a lot of questions about how long this story is going to continue and the answer is not too much longer. There are still a few chapters left to be written but the pace of the story will be changing after it hits New Year's in Danny and Sam's universe.**

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my darling beta: foreversky. Don't forget to vote on the poll: Danny's Companion is in the lead at 53%**

**~TLL~**


	31. Chapter 31

"I don't know what to wear," I whined in despair to Phantom.

"Whatever you want?" Phantom suggested.

"Helpful, really," I said sarcastically, disappearing into the depths of my closet. I was preparing for the formal dinner and dance at the Sanchez's tonight. I was expected to be dressed to the nines, but it wouldn't do to wear a ball gown to a seated dinner.

"I'm a guy. I don't know what you want to wear to go dancing. I just like how great your boobs look in sparkly dresses."

I stuck my head out of my closet to see if he was laughing. He wasn't but his eyes were glowing with mirth.

"I don't have boobs," I retorted, slithering back into my closet. And I didn't, really. I had breasts (part of the whole female thing) but they were small, not really worth mentioning in my opinion.

"Pretty sure you do," he called in a sing song manner.

"Pretty sure I know my body better than you."

I flipped through my shorter dresses, figuring that it would be my best bet. I found a garment that was black and fell to mid-thigh. There was a thick belt of sparkles wrapped around my waistline. The sleeves were long and sheer. I pulled a pair of thick tights off a shelf and grabbed a pair of wedge boots to top off my darker look. I had my outfit in hand and was turning to walk out of my closet when I crashed into Phantom's broad chest. I glanced up at him, wondering just how long he had been standing there.

"You know," he said in a deep voice, "I _could_ know your body better than you."

My cheeks flamed but I laughed. "Funny," I managed, putting my hand flat on his chest and moving him out of my way. "But I was hoping my first time would last more than a minute."

Phantom scoffed. "How you wound me, my love!" I glanced over my shoulder. He was dramatically pretending to die.

"Sorry, dear," I cooed, heading into the bathroom to change.

As I did so, I tried to calm myself. My heart was racing simply at the thought of sex. And not just sex with anyone – sex with Phantom. I did love him but he was also the first boy who had ever said those words to me. Did I really want to be one of those girls who gave up everything to their first love, only to realize it might eventually come crashing down around them? I was well aware that Phantom and I would never be able to have a happily ever after; he was already dead and soon I would grow beyond his years. But we wouldn't end on bad terms; at least, I couldn't see it happening. We loved and respected each other too much to let what we had crumble and rot.

The way I looked at our relationship was that, when I was decades older and had children of my own, then later on grandchildren, and if they asked about my first love, I would look back, think of Phantom and smile. He would be a sweet memory, someone who surfaced when I least expected it, and he would remain locked as a pure and innocent teenager forever.

And sex, well, that always seemed to complicate things. It always made emotions and hormones rage, becoming that much harder to deal with. And being with Phantom, it wasn't hard. It was a breath-taking romantic ride. There were some rough patches but they barely seemed to matter now, caged and brushed away in the state of bliss I was in.

Still, considering all of that, I couldn't deny that I wanted to. I was a girl. I was girl who had emotions and hormones. I was a girl deeply in love with an incredibly attractive boy. I wasn't about to let all of these factors rule my decision as they were all pushing me toward doing it, and there were other factors there – factors that drove toward the negative – that had to be taken into account.

Yet, as I emerged from my bathroom my face was bright red from my thoughts.

"You look amazing," Phantom gushed.

"You always think that," I said. It didn't mean that I didn't love to hear it; that it didn't make butterflies flutter in my stomach.

"I'm never wrong," he murmured against the top of my head. He ran his hands along my spine, goose bumps emerging on my skin from the sensation. "Give me a kiss," he requested.

I leaned back against his arms, letting him support me. I slowly brought my lips to his, my hair falling loose over my shoulders. He used his strength to pull me tight against him; I could feel the stark outline of his body against mine. I could feel every line of tension in his muscles, every inch of soft flesh along his body. He kissed me deeply, as though he were trying to consume me. I kissed him back, pouring every ounce of myself as I could into him. I wanted to hold him as much as he wanted to hold me; I wanted to twine my limbs around him and never let go of him.

"I love you," he whispered into my ear.

"I love you, too," I replied.

His fingers tapped along the nape of my neck; a rhythm I didn't recognize but a touch that would linger and a feeling that would imprint itself on me for the rest of the night. "I won't be able to come back tonight," Phantom warned.

"What? . . . Why?" I asked, my head leaning against his shoulder.

"I just can't." Phantom's arms were snaked around my waist and we began to spin in shaky circles, a lazy dance. "But I'll come see you tomorrow unless you're too busy with Christmas celebrations."

"It's only Christmas Day," I murmured. "Yet another useless holiday where we have to pretend we actually like spending time as a family."

Phantom shook his head, a chuckle on his lips. "I have a surprise for you tomorrow."

"I thought we weren't doing a gift thing." I stuttered.

"We're not. It's not a gift, per se. It's just something that I want to surprise you with."

I squinted at him, intrigued by his vague phrasing. "I don't have anything for you." I whispered.

"I don't need anything. I just want to be with you."

"But I want to give you something, if you have something for me."

Phantom closed his eyes in thought. "Hmmm. How about this then," he began, as I stood, watching his face eagerly, "you give me the kiss of a lifetime."

"Kiss of a lifetime?" I repeated with exasperation. How was I supposed to give something like that? I had no idea how to create it: was it supposed to be overly intense or something? Phantom and I had shared intense kisses. I knew that he wasn't talking about anything other than a real, pure kiss.

"Yup," he said, tapping me on the nose for effect. I wrinkled my nose in response to his touch, mind unsure. "Can you give me that that?"

I closed my eyes. "I'll try," I managed. And try I would. I was entirely too selfish in this relationship. If he wanted the kiss of a lifetime, I could figure something out for him.

"I have to get going to the Sanchez's," I said reluctantly. I didn't want to leave his grasp. I didn't want to let the connection flowing between us to break, for even just a moment. But I also didn't want my mother to start yelling after me.

Phantom slid a finger under my chin, lifting it so that he was looking me in the eye. He leaned for my lips, bringing me into a slow kiss that that made everything in me clench and let go at the same time. This kiss was soft, gentle. It was somehow flavored with a strange innocence that was oddly bittersweet.

(-.-)

Because our evening at the Sanchez's was starting off with a dinner, we were placed at tables. I had found my place card moments after arrival and discovered two things: I was not sitting with my parents and Paullina had nothing to do with table placements. Each table sat four. There was me, Paullina, Fenton, and Jazz. I was hoping that Jazz's presence would make me show some restraint.

Jazz was the next to arrive. She was with her parents but Fenton was missing from the family of four. The thought that he was doing some pre-dinner shacking up with Paullina crossed my mind. After that thought, I didn't know if I could eat.

"Hi, Sam!" Jazz said, her voice cheerful as always. "How are you? I feel like I haven't talked to you in so long."

"I'm doing good." I replied with a nod. "And you?"

"Excellent!" Jazz crowed. "I feel as though I've just reached a point in my learning where everything is beginning to tie together.

"That's great!"

There was a small noise as someone entered. Jazz and I looked over our shoulders at the same time. Paullina and Fenton were on the scene. I faced forward again quickly, glancing at Jazz as I did so. She was wearing an expression of intense disgust at the couple.

"Don't like her?" I guessed, trying to get out a quick whispered conversation before the duo was upon us.

"_No_." Jazz hissed. "She isn't right for him but he doesn't see it. He's been obsessed with her for too long. He's going to lose everything if he continues like this."

I wondered what she meant by everything but didn't have time to ask. Paullina's nose curled when she saw me. Her eyes flashed to Jazz and she managed a weak smile.

"Jasmine," she purred.

Annoyance crossed Jazz's face at the use of her full name. I could fully empathize with that.

"Paullie!" Jazz cooed.

"Ladies, please." Fenton muttered under his breath but I'm pretty sure I was the only one who heard him.

I busied myself, deciding to toy with the cutlery. With any luck, both Paullina and Fenton would ignore me for the duration of the dinner. Once the dance began, I would be able to plaster myself to the wall and pretend like I was somewhere else; anywhere else, other than where I truly was.

Luckily, I was right. I was not a target at dinner. This was due to the fact that Paullina and Jazz were much crueller to each other than I had ever seen two women be. I hadn't even expected Paullina of that deep level of viciousness; much less think Jazz would have the balls to retaliate. For someone who had always seemed so sweet, Jazz could be a total bitch!

We had just begun the first course. Paullina snapped an ugly line at Jazz. Jazz narrowed her eyes, slipping her small piece of buttered bread into her palm, weighing it before snapping it at Paullina's face. It hit Paullina square in the face – the dark haired beauty went wide eyed, anger whipping across her features. She shot to her feet, slamming her hands down on the table. She attracted the attention of everyone in the crowded dining room.

_"YOU FUCKING CUNT!"_ She shouted at Jazz. _"HOW DARE YOU?"_

My jaw dropped. Jazz seemed to shrink in her chair – though the two had been picking at each other, Jazz had not expected Paullina to react in such a dramatic matter. Fenton appeared livid. His face was dark and dangerous. He gripped Paullina by the bicep, trying to lead her out of the room.

"Do not touch me," Paullina hissed, yanking herself out of Fenton's grasp. "Your whore of a sister needs to be taught a fucking lesson. Don't get in my goddamn way."

Fenton grabbed Paullina by the shoulders, forcing her to face him. "Don't you dare talk about my sister that way. Don't you dare go near her. Don't you even dare touch her. Matter of fact, don't talk to me, don't come near me, and don't touch me. I'm sick and tired of you Paullina. You treat other people like trash and don't even _care_."

"Did you just break up with me?" Paullina went quickly from anger to shock. "How dare you? You have no right to do that. We're the perfect couple and that's how we're going to stay."

"We're not staying like anything." Fenton narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "How the fuck did I put up with you for so long?"

Paullina stamped her foot. "Do not walk away from me, Danny."

But Fenton had turned his back on her. He had guided Jazz out of her chair. He kept his arm around his sister's waist as they exited the building, Maddie and Jack tight behind them. Paullina let out a roar of outrage, overturning the table I had been sitting at.

I scurried away from her, running for the car where I would wait for my parents.

**I don't own anything recognizable! Thanks to my wonderful beta readers: forever sky. Don't forget to vote on the poll: Danny's companion is still in the lead at a 52%**

**~TLL~**


	32. Chapter 32

"Samantha, are you all right?" Mother demanded, bursting into the car with a sense of urgency.

I was curled up in the backseat, not even caring that I was shivering. I would rather freeze to death than be trapped in that house with Paullina. I would, no doubt, have become the target of her anger and it wasn't something that I wished to live through.

"I'm fine," I squeaked. I cleared my throat and tried again, "I was just startled."

"We all were," Mother agreed. "The Sanchez's had to dismiss everyone; I can't imagine how they're feeling after their daughter's breakdown."

My father made a low noise as he turned on the car. "The fuck you don't!" He exploded, gripping the wheel tightly. "The fuck _we_ don't. Our daughter fucking tried to kill herself."

I made myself as small as possible in the backseat. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been waiting for it. I just wasn't particularly prepared for it at this moment. I didn't want my father to articulate how much he hated me and how much I'd let him down.

"Not now," Mother hissed under her breath.

"Then when?" He snapped. "When does she get to face her own facts?"

"Samantha has changed," Mother argued. "If you had been around at all you would know. Amity has been different for her. Many things have improved."

It wasn't just that Amity had been different for me; I had changed after my attempt had failed. It wasn't a 'see the light' ordeal or anything but my thinking had felt different. I had wanted to try afterward. When I had decided to kill myself it was like there was nothing to hope for, nothing left that I had to live for. Afterward, even though I hated my face and I hated where I was, and I despised _everything_ . . . there was still a sliver of something within me that was whispering to try. I don't think I would have if Mother hadn't tried so much for me in the days following. I had thought that, since I was heading for a new place and I had an opportunity to start fresh, it couldn't hurt to give it a shot.

And here we are now.

Dad clenched his jaw shut, upping the speed of the car.

I swallowed slowly. "You don't have the right to say anything. You weren't here for me. You weren't around when I needed you. All of a sudden, I'm not perfect anymore and you have no use for me? That's not how love works. I love you because you're my father. You've made mistakes but I love you anyway. Can't you love me even though I did something wrong; can't you love me because I'm your daughter?"

Dad didn't respond. He squealed into the driveway and the car jerked to a halt. He swiftly exited the car.

I was quick to scramble after him. "Well?" I shouted to his retreating back. "Can't you?"

He paused momentarily at the door and slowly turned around to face at me. "You aren't my daughter."

A small sound escaped my lips but he was already gone, the door to the house slamming shut behind him. I stumbled backward, landing on the hood of the car for balance. "Samantha . . ." Mother said as an arm snaked around my shoulders. She was trying to console me, but I could not be calmed.

"I told you he hated me," I spat bitterly.

"He doesn't hate you; he just doesn't know how to deal with it. You were right when you said that he wasn't there for you. But, honey, he didn't know how to be."

"You still loved me."

"You're my daughter. I will _always_ love you. He just needs some time to get over himself a little, okay?"

I didn't agree with her. Yet, I pushed myself into a standing position. I couldn't let myself be affected by the decisions of others, as that was what got me into this mess in the first place. I had to look away; had to look only to myself. If he wanted to be my father again and put effort into our relationship, well, it was all that I wanted for him to do. But I couldn't force him into accepting me.

"Okay." I told her.

Mother took my hand, walking me into the house. "I know this evening hasn't been easy, nor has the past few months really, but I want you to know that I am proud of you. You've changed so much and for the better."

I didn't know what to say or how to respond, so I said nothing. I simply slipped out of her grasp and began to head up the stairs toward my bedroom.

"Samantha?" She called after me.

"Yes?" I said, not turning around.

"Merry Christmas Eve!"

"Merry Christmas Eve . . ." I repeated.

(-.-)

I was woken up by breakfast in bed the next morning. "Merry Christmas!" My mother sang.

I stared blankly up at her before looking down at the tray she had balanced on my desk –French toast, scrambled eggs, a large glass of orange juice. I wondered who had come and replaced Mother overnight; she hated to cook, hated anything to do with the kitchen. I looked back up at her again. Her eyes were large and inspecting, but also very red.

"Were you crying?" I asked instantly. I was worried; had something happened between her and Dad last night? No matter what was wrong with me I couldn't allow him hurt her.

"I … It's Christmas," She replied lamely.

"Mother," I pushed.

"He checked into a hotel last night." She admitted. "Don't get that look on your face, dear, it's not your fault."

It was, of course. She was lying. It would always be my fault. I think she saw the guilt that was slowly consuming me in my eyes.

"Look," Mother chirped, forcing her demeanor to brighten. "Why don't you eat your breakfast and then come down stairs? I have some presents for you to open!"

"Okay," I agreed quickly. There was something about the way that her lips trembled that made me want to do whatever she wished. I wondered what exactly had gone on between my parents but I didn't really want to know; it was their business.

Mother gave me a sad smile and swept out the door.

I ate as quickly as possible, threw my robe on and headed into the living room. We had never set up a tree for Christmas in my house, so there wasn't one this year either. The few gifts were piled on the living room table, the metallic wrapping paper shone under the light. Mother was on the couch, sipping at a cup of tea.

"How did you sleep?" She asked me.

"Good." I sat down on the opposite edge of the couch.

"Don't be shy," Mother urged. "Those ones are all yours. I know there's not much but I decided that quality was better than quantity, and," here she shrugged, "you are incredibly difficult to shop for."

I smiled and grabbed a box.

A few outfits later (all beautiful; I don't know _when_ Mother learned to shop for me but she learned well) I reached my last present. It was the smallest box of the bunch. I unwrapped it curiously, gently plucking the bow off the top of the box. Inside was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I had ever seen. It was a silver charm bracelet – thin chained – with only a few charms clinging to it.

"I hope you like it," Mother's tone was anxious. "I added a few charms; this one is mother and child, this one is for when you learned to drive, and this one is our move."

I fumbled with the delicate piece of jewelry, completely in love with it. Mother took it from me and fastened it around my wrist. It fitted me perfectly.

"If there are any charms you want added, just let me know."

"I love it," I breathed, noticing how cold the metal was against my skin. Impulsively, I hugged her. "Thank you for everything!"

"You're welcome, dear." She said, hugging me back.

"I have this for you." I pulled the gift I had for her out of my pocket, placing it in her palm.

"Oh, Sammy-boo, this is beautiful!" I had gotten her a golden necklace that said _Mom_ on it, studded with my birthstone. "Thank you!"

I smiled. "You should go see Dad," I urged.

"I don't want to leave you alone on Christmas."

"He doesn't deserve to be alone either – I'll probably go for a walk or something, pass the time. It _is_ beautiful out," I added.

"Perhaps I will," Mom agreed. "We do need to clear the air."

"So go. It'll be good."

"We'll have something _really_ good for supper," Mother promised, standing to get dressed. "Whatever you like."

"Will you make Grandma's macaroni and cheese?" I asked, shyly. My Grandma Manson made macaroni and cheese every year for Christmas. She had passed away in February – a death that had nearly destroyed me. She had been my rock; the proof that I did belong in this family. She had been the only one who understood me.

"Yes," Mother agreed. "I will. Cross my heart."

She left to get ready and I sprinted back to my room. I had no idea when Phantom would be arriving but I would bet it would be soon. Mother and I were both late risers so it was nearing mid-afternoon. I threw on one of my new gifts from Mother; tight black jeans and a loose purple top that flowed around me. The material was silky, cool against my skin. I tensed against my instinct to shiver, instead focused on applying my make-up.

"We'll eat at seven!" Mother yelled up the stairs to me. "I'm leaving now."

"Goodbye!" I called in return. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!"

I heard the door click shut.

I wondered when Phantom would arrive.

No sooner had I thought of him when I heard a shuffling over by my balcony doors.

"It's cold as hell outside," Phantom complained.

"Ghosts get cold?" I questioned.

"This one does!" He shivered, his white hair flopping over his forehead with the action. "Come warm me up."

He was walking toward me and I could sense the cold radiating off of him. He was making me shiver along with him. "No closer!" I shrieked.

"Why?" He pouted. "Don't you want to cuddle?"

"I don't want to get hypothermia," I retorted.

Phantom crossed his arms. "Get your warmest coat."

I narrowed my eyes at his new tactic. "Why?"

"Don't you want your surprise?"

"Why do I need a coat?"

"Because it's not here." He smiled, "Put your coat on, babe?"

I smiled at him in return. "All right, give me a second." I dashed into my closet, throwing my thickest winter jacket on. I pulled up the zipper and returned to my room.

"Lovely," Phantom murmured to himself. "Come on, let's go!" He held out his arms to me.

Unsure, I stepped toward him. What were we going to be doing? Phantom closed his arms around me when I realized, "Are we going flying?" I was so excited!

"Yes," he chuckled. "We are."

"Well stop wasting time!" I practically jumped on him, legs snapping around his waist to hold on. "Let's go!"

"Well if I had known it would only take this little effort to get your legs around me," he whispered in my ear.

I swatted at his shoulder. "Sex obsessed teenage boy," I accused under my breath.

"What else can you expect from a guy with such a hot girlfriend?"

I giggled and blushed, hiding my head into his cold shoulder.

"Aww, did I embarrass you?"

"Shut up," I mumbled into his shoulder. I wasn't admitting anything to him, he would use it against me. "Can we just go flying?"

"I can feel your blush," he taunted.

"No, you can't." I argued.

"So you _are_ blushing."

"Phantom!"

He paused.

"It's cute."

I groaned. "There's nothing cute about looking like a tomato."

"I don't know . . . The look works for you."

I couldn't help but laugh a little. "Okay, you charmer, can we go flying now?"

"Whatever the lady wants."

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: foeversky. Don't forget about the poll: Danny's companion is in the lead (and in the works)!**

**Also, for those who were inquiring about Fenton/Sam interaction it's coming up!**

**~TLL~**


	33. Chapter 33

Phantom phased us through my balcony doors.

"Show off," I accused.

"If you have it, flaunt it." Phantom laughed.

I felt the heave of his body as we took flight. I let out a small squeal and clung to him. It was just as exhilarating as I remembered. I wrenched my eyes open, watching the white land fade away below us. There was something addicting about being this high above the world; buildings flashing below. My breath came in misty puffs, blurring the tiny pinpricks that were Amity citizens moving about their day.

"You look happy," Phantom observed.

"I _am_. I forgot how amazing this felt!"

"So happy you're not even complaining about being cold," Phantom said with a chuckle.

"Give it a minute," I warned jokingly.

I watched, breathless, as the town began to slip away. The landscape below me became increasingly rural and fields began to stretch out, covered by long blankets of snow. A few moments after encountering a building, looked to Phantom and asked, "Phantom, where are you taking me?"

"To your surprise," he answered simply. He adjusted his weight, the ground drawing nearer.

I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion. "I thought flying was my surprise."

"No, you silly girl. Flying wouldn't be enough."

"Enough?" I repeated. "I never expected anything from you."

"But I wanted to give you something. And I know that you don't have a need for materialistic things and I couldn't get those anyway. But I do have something for you, and I really hope you like it."

I looked at him curiously, but I didn't comment as we were approaching the ground. Phantom let me down gently, my feet sinking into the snow. I wish he had warned me to wear boots; the snow was rapidly melting into my sneakers. I had to cling to Phantom as gravity latched chains onto me and reclaimed my body.

"Good?" He asked.

I nodded. Phantom dropped his hand from my waist, instead taking my own hand in his.

"So, it's really not much, but I spent a good part of last night working on it, so I really, _really_, hope that you like it. I mean, it's okay if you don't but I think you will. I wanted your surprise to be something unique and different but still really special."

I smiled as he prattled. He sounded more nervous than I had ever heard him. It made me smile. While Phantom's arrogance was one of the things I loved about him it was adorable to see a more unsure side . . . a more vulnerable side. And whatever he was surprising me with (though I had absolutely no guesses – which drove me mad) I was sure that I would love it. We continued to traipse through the snow. It was only a short journey; Phantom soon pulled me to a stop.

"This is going to make for awkward walking but will you cover your eyes for me?"

I did as he asked, putting my freezing palms over my eyes to effectively obscure my vision. Phantom took my left elbow in his hand, steering me. I teetered as we walked, hesitant with every footstep. I never felt more relieved than when he tugged me to a stop.

"You ready?" Phantom breathed in my ear.

I nodded, feeling thoroughly excited. Though I hadn't wanted anything from him and hadn't expected anything, the fact that he had done this just because he wanted to made me incredibly happy. It was not something I had ever really experienced before – a person wanting to do something for me simply because I was me. I was already smiling when Phantom drew my hands away from my face, revealing what he had done.

"Oh my god," I breathed, unable to say anything else.

I left Phantom's side, creeping away from Phantom toward his work of art. He had made an ice sculpture. But it wasn't just any ice sculpture. It was me and him, constructed in such intricate detail that I couldn't even begin to guess how he had done so. I approached the sculpture before me – it was life sized and every single detail of me was included. I could see the ridges he had included on my favourite plaid skirt. He even included my eyelashes, curled up the way they did after I had applied my mascara. I followed the flow of the sculptures to where my crystal hand was intertwined his. He had done a much cruder job on himself; the detail not as refined or delicate.

But it was still beautiful; it still took my breath away. Here, in this transparent version, I looked beautiful. Hesitantly, I reached out to touch one of the stray hairs on Phantom's sculpture head. It was sharper than I expected but also stronger. The ice wasn't nearly as delicate as I had assumed it to be.

"Oh my god," I repeated, louder. "This is _beautiful_."

"Well," Phantom said sheepishly, coming to my side. "It has you in it."

I looked at him, his bright green eyes staring back at me. I was so overwhelmed with the feelings I had for him. He was more than I ever could have dreamed of asking for. He was so many things – so many great things – that I would never be.

I kissed him, but this time it didn't feel like any of the other kisses we had shared. This one was deeper, more pure. I could feel more than his body against me; I could feel the emotions humming through him. His veins were on fire as were mine. He moved his hands to my back, trying to hold me closer and then closer still. It was a dance – one we already knew the steps too, though we had never performed it. He kissed me and I could taste love on his tongue. I ran my hand through his hair and I could feel passion from the contact.

My lungs were crying for air but I couldn't let him go. Not yet. I needed to feel him right there – a beautiful necessity. Phantom gripped my hips, pulling me up so that my legs were wrapped around his waist like they had been early that afternoon. I took the brief second of movement to suck it a breath, the cold air burning my lungs. Phantom rested his forehead against mine, staring deeply into my eyes.

"I love you," he whispered, wrapping his arms tight around my waist, cuddling me close. "I don't think you have any idea."

I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, my cheek resting against his muscled shoulder. "I know," I assured him. "I love you too."

"Good," Phantom kissed my forehead. "I don't know what I would do if you didn't."

I glanced over my shoulder, looking at his artwork. "How did you make that?"

Phantom placed me back on my feet as he answered. "I have ice powers. After a bit of trial and error with technique it wasn't all that difficult, just time consuming. I was out here a long time hoping that no one would wander by and see me." He laughed. "That's why it's so out of the way."

"It's gorgeous." I stepped away from him, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket. I snapped as many pictures as I could, trying to capture all of the beauty that I saw in the sculpture. Somehow, I knew that it would never come out perfectly; the true wonder of the statue couldn't ever translate in a picture.

Phantom hugged me from behind. "I'm glad you liked it." I could feel his eyelashes fluttering against my neck. "And that was the perfect kiss."

I blushed. "I'm glad you liked it," I echoed his words.

A cold wind swept across the land, making me shiver. Phantom's cold body wasn't helping me deal with the winter weather very well either. Once I had started shivering, I couldn't stop. My feet were freezing and soaked; I couldn't remember the last time I had felt my toes. My fingers felt like they were about to fall off – I burrowed them further into the sleeves of my coat. Phantom felt my tremors.

He scooped me into his arms, bridal style. "I think someone's ready to get home."

"I think you're right." I agreed, smiling.

The flight home was just as breathtaking as the flight there, though it seemed much shorter. It was late afternoon when Phantom tossed my frozen body into my bed, the blankets enveloping me. I kicked my shoes off, throwing them over the end of my bed. I shrugged my jacket off too before disappearing under my heavy blankets.

Phantom laughed at my actions. "Chilly?"

"A bit." I had my eyes and nose stuck over the top of my blankets. I watched as he curled up at the end of my bed.

"Hmm," Phantom mused with a smirk. "What happens if I do _this_."

I didn't have time to think about what 'this' was before his hand had snaked under the covers, his glacial fingers wrapping around my exposed ankle. I yelped, trying to drag my vulnerable skin away from him but he wasn't letting go. I squirmed and glared simultaneously but he just let out a snicker.

"You're being mean," I whined.

"I wouldn't want to be mean," Phantom agreed. He dropped his hand from my ankle to my foot. I was about to start protesting when I felt his fingers moving against the sole of my foot. I involuntarily I let out a moan as he began to massage my feet.

He switched feet and my toes curled from the sensation. My circulation began to flow again; my feet regained feeling. I relaxed into his firm yet sensitive touch. He slowly began to work his way up my calf and then he brought his fingers across my knee. I laughed, flinching away from his touch because of the sensation. Phantom only smirked at me and did it again. I nudged his hip with the ball of my foot and he stopped tickling me, though I could still see in his eyes that he wanted to. Another few minutes passed by sluggishly as Phantom continued to massage up my legs, his cold touch seeping through the thickness of my jeans.

He had gotten about halfway up my thighs before I knew that I had to stop him. He was slowling down as he went, becoming more hesitant the higher up my leg he got. I knew he wouldn't want to pressure me into doing something that I wasn't ready for (no matter how many perverted jokes he made) and I knew that, as of right now, I wasn't completely ready. However, that didn't mean that I wanted him to stop. His touch was making my stomach tighten at the bottom, my heart began to race, and heat rushed to between my legs. I could feel myself blushing from the intensity of my physical reactions.

"Phantom," I whispered, voice hoarse. "Stop."

Phantom looked up at me, hands pausing on my leg. "Whatever you want," Phantom removed his hands. "You know that I would never want to make you feel like you have to do something."

"You weren't," I assured him, holding my arms open so that he would crawl into them. "I just . . . I didn't want it to go any further."

Phantom nodded, accepting this as he lay against me, leg falling across the tops of my thighs.

I almost wished that he wouldn't accept it so easily and that we could talk more frankly about sex like other couples seemed to. We hadn't said anything about it aside from Phantom's suggestive sarcasm. There was an unspoken assumption between the two of us that it wasn't going to happen – I was too scared and he was too . . . well, dead. But that didn't stop me from wanting him and it didn't stop me from becoming more and more confused on my sexual activity, or lack thereof. I wanted him and I wasn't scared of wanting him anymore. I was still fully aware of the repercussions that I had thought of only days ago but they were starting to mean less and less, shrinking into the depths of my mind as I began to crave more than just heavy kisses from Phantom.

I had no idea what to think of this.

**Thanks to my betas: foreversky. Also, I'm going to be away in Europe so the next update will be on March 14****th****. I don't own anything recognizable and make sure you get your votes in on the poll: Danny's companion is in the lead at 51%**

**~TLL~**


	34. Chapter 34

"It's a nice night," Phantom commented.

I shivered in response, drawing my comforter much closer around me. Though it was my idea to be up on the roof, it didn't mean that I was able to keep warm. Underneath me, the shingles were slippery with ice and it did nothing to keep me warm. However, I was stubborn; I wanted to be on the roof to watch Amity's New Year's fireworks and I was going to stay there no matter how cold I got.

"Want to go in?" Phantom offered.

I shook my head. "It'll be midnight in a couple of minutes."

"Yes," he agreed, "but you're cold now."

"Pshh," I forced out through my blue lips. "I can deal with a little bit of cold."

"She says as she gets frostbite," Phantom muttered under his breath.

"Shh," I said, giving him a shove.

Phantom shook his head in amusement and worry. He pulled me further into his lap. "You look colder than me," he observed.

"Humanly impossible," I countered.

Phantom shrugged, signaling the end of the conversation. He picked up the countdown we had going. "Fifty five seconds."

I watched the numbers slowly tick down while keeping an eye on the sky. I loved fireworks; I loved the way they lit up so brilliantly, capturing everyone's attention for a single moment. I watched the dark sky canvas with breathless anticipation, the countless stars holding their breath along with me.

"Twenty-five," Phantom murmured.

I slid my hand around the back of his neck, holding him tightly to me. I slid my hand around the back of his head, keeping him tightly to me as he counted down the seconds in a low voice. Butterflies erupted into my stomach as I thought of the night – fireworks and my first New Year's kiss. I trembled, but from anticipation and not the cold.

"Ten; nine; eight; seven; six; five; four; three; two; one." Phantom counted down softly.

When he hit the last number, we both moved in tandem. We tightened our arms around one another, lips coming together gently. His fingers came up to tangle in my hair, and I slid one arm down his spine. I could feel one hand dip to my hip, jerking me forward to come even nearer to him. Above my head, I could hear the _crack_ of the first firework.

I couldn't bring myself to look up, though I had been awaiting the beautiful bursts of light for hours now. I couldn't draw myself away from his lips, away from the tightness of his arms around me. I felt as though I was falling into him; everything about him filled my senses. If I could open my eyes, all I could see was him; I could feel his muscles under my fingers; smell his muskiness. Everything about me, in this moment, was filled with him.

I ran one hand down the length of his arm, the other one falling to his chest and continuing toward his waist. I felt his head shy away, his lips ghosted from mine, travelling along my cheek before settling at my ear.

"Sam," he groaned, my hand hovering at his waist, "don't do this."

My heart was fluttering in my throat; I could feel the heavy beats against my collarbone. I swallowed, the jittery feeling flooding my veins. "What if I want to?" I asked him, purposely not looking him in the eye. I focused instead on his black spandex, barely indistinguishable from the night around us.

"It wouldn't be right." But even so, I could feel his fingers fiddling with the hem of my shirt, his nose trailing along the sensitive spots of my neck.

"Phantom," I breathed. "I want too."

I could feel him start to shake underneath of me. I slid my legs on either side of his. I took his face in both of my hands, making him look up at me. I met his eyes – his beautiful green eyes; the eyes I so adored. "I want you."

His eyes softened as he studied my face. His palms flattened against my thighs. "You need to be sure. I don't want any regrets between us, Sam, and neither do you."

"I won't have any; I swear I won't." I kissed him, appreciating the full feeling of his lips, of the fire that raged through me at the touch.

I felt the strange twinge that came when he turned us both intangible. The cold winter night disappeared, replaced by my warm bedroom. Phantom lay me down on the bed, propping himself over me. "If you change your mind, at any time, you can tell me to stop."

"I won't." I ran my hand across his collarbones, settled in the scoop of his throat. "Do you not want to?"

He smirked. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you just how long I've wanted you. I just don't want to you to think, tomorrow or further down the road, that it was a mistake; that _I_ was a mistake." His eyes looked despairingly at me. "You've got to know how we're going to end."

I ducked my head. I didn't want to think of that right now. All I was sure of was that I wanted to feel him close to me. I love him. He loved me. I wanted to feel the physical connection after the mental and emotional one we had been nurturing for months. I had bared my soul to him – had shown him every shadowed corner of my broken self – and I knew, without a doubt, that he was the one I also wanted to bare my body to. He was the only person I could trust with all of me.

"We're not ending," I said, "Not right here, not right now. And I love you _now_. We're here, together, _now_."

Without further ado, Phantom kissed me. I could feel myself arching off the bed, being pulled toward him by some invisible force. Phantom pulled down the zipper of my coat, slipping the article of clothing away from me. I placed my palms on his chest, forcing him into more of a sitting position. I ran my hands up and down his arms, reaching the white gloves.

I cocked my head to the side, something occurring to me. "Can your clothes even come off?"

I expect him to laugh at my cluelessness – I really did know nothing about being a ghost, after all. Instead, he frowned. He opened his mouth, as though to say something before he closed it again. "I . . . I don't know," he admitted.

I laughed.

"Hey," he said, joining me after swatting playfully at my ribs. "It's not like I've ever tried."

"Points for that," I offered with a smile. He smiled back.

I took his wrist in my hand, bringing my hand to the top of his stark white glove. I know that I was nervous that his glove wouldn't come off; just something else that would eventually separate. Yet, I peeled it down his arm, over his fingers. I stared at his nude hand. There were small scars that crossed the very tips of his fingers. I ran my own fingers across the marks, no doubt from fighting ghosts.

Phantom gave a childish shrug. "No problems," he said, removing his other glove by himself.

I placed my hands against his – skin on skin – for the first time. He was much colder without the thin layer between us and I had to actively stop myself from shivering. Even so, a small chuckle escaped his lips.

"I saw that."

I stuck my tongue out. "Lies."

Phantom shook his head at me, though he continued to grin. His eyes left my face, trailing down the curve of my body. Slowly, he slid his hands under my shirt, pushing the fabric up with it. I let him pull the shirt over my head, quickly shoving my hair out of my eyes so I could look in his face when he saw me. I think he saw my apprehension because he dipped his head and kissed beside my belly button.

"You're beautiful."

I swallowed, feeling butterflies beat against my ribcage. "Lies," I repeated in a whisper.

Phantom shook his head, and I could feel his white hair tickle across my skin as he drew his nose along the line of my ribs. One of his legs slipped between mine, and I couldn't help but clench myself around his body. He kissed me, and I hung on for all it was worth, no longer capable of controlling the feelings inside of me.

(-.-)

I let out a quivering breath. Despite the persistent chill radiating from the boy next to me, I was sweating. My insides felt as though they were melting together; my brain was becoming mush. My muscles all felt sore as I groped for my blankets, drawing myself into a cocoon. I peeked over the top of my quilt at Phantom.

He was peering back at me, holding a sheet somewhat modestly over himself. I blushed as I thought there was no need for modesty now. I had seen everything; had felt everything as he moved against me. I reached out, one hand holding his as we laid together on my bed.

The experience wasn't what I thought it would be.

I wasn't expecting something out of a book – that everything would be perfect and just fall into place. I would never have expected that; not from a guy, and certainly not from myself. But being with him, having him be the first one to hold me like that, was perfect. Sure it wasn't smooth – it was a little messy and a little confusing as we got tangled up with one another – but I didn't want _him_ so he could be flawless like a scene from a movie. I wanted him because of what we were like together.

And that's what being intimately with him was like – being with him. It's sounds absurd and utterly simple, but that's what it was. It was him being clumsy and slightly arrogant; me stuttering around with a blush on my cheeks. Though the moments are always depicted as serious, we laughed because that's what he does – he makes me laugh.

I squeezed his hand.

"You feel okay?" Phantom asked.

I nodded against my pillows. "Why?"

"Just making sure."

I smiled, though it was tired. "You okay?"

Phantom smirked. "Better than I have ever been."

He opened his arms to me. They were extremely pale in the faint light from the moon. I wrapped the comforter more securely around me (he was _that_ cold) and rolled in against his body. I tucked myself against the curve of his body, resting my head next to his shoulder. He locked his arms around me and gave me a squeeze.

"I love you, Sam."

"I love you too, Phantom."

I hid my nose under my blanket and pretended to fall asleep. Instead I tried to steel myself against the different emotions that were coming to overwhelm me. No, I didn't regret what we did. Yet, there was some kind of sadness within me. It was the feeling that something had changed, completely and forever. I would never be the same person again. I was coming to realize that Phantom now owned a piece of my heart, a piece of me, forever. It was coupled with the knowledge that I could not have him forever – that bit kept hitting me over and over again. Most teenaged couples won't last, but we never had a chance to find out if we would have.

I pressed myself further into his chest and tried, once again, to block out the thoughts. I thought of how much I loved him and how much he loved me. And I reminded myself that I would not regret anything Phantom and I had. It was beautiful, what we held, and I knew there was an afterlife – I would not have him otherwise. Somehow, no matter what time passed and what kind of life I lived, I could have a forever with him, if we truly did love each other that much.

I snuggled deeper into his arms.

I could be patient.

**I realize I posted the wrong update date in the last chapter and I am deeply sorry for it; I looked at the wrong dates on my calendar and wasn't thinking clearly. Sorry to disappoint those who were expecting this last week but I hope you liked the update!**

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my lovely betas: foreversky.**

**Also, don't forget to vote on the poll if you haven't already. Danny's companion is winning at 52%**

**~TLL~**


	35. Chapter 35

I woke slowly, rapidly blinking to dispel my cloudy vision. The sun was shining brightly through my windows, its angle much lower than it usually was when I woke. I focused on my clock, shocked to find that it was early afternoon. I couldn't believe I had slept in so late. As I thought back to what activities had made me so tired, I both blushed and looked for Phantom.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty." He quipped on cue.

I rolled, keeping the sheets securely around me, more out of need for warmth than any modesty I still retained. Phantom was casually propped up on one elbow, looking down at me. As I faced him, he reached out, twining a piece of my hair around his finger. I smiled at the simple touch. Phantom kissed my lips, stealing my breath away from the softest of lip brushes.

"Sleep well?" He asked, leaning back.

I nodded. "Lack of sleep was more fun though," I added, trying to inject innuendo into my voice.

Phantom laughed, pulling me against his cold body. I shivered as his spandex met my bare shoulders. I relaxed into his hold, not wanting to let him go. There was something about the moment that seemed innocently sweet – perfect, in a way, I suppose. The sun was shining; I could feel the newness of the day. Everything felt beautiful and alive. I was both in love and loved in return. I don't think anything could rival what I was feeling. I felt whole, complete, and at peace with the world.

"Sam, I'm really sorry, but I have to go." He said softly, interrupting my train of thought.

"What?" I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice, but I was. I had been expecting to spend the rest of the day with him – not necessarily doing anything, especially of a suggestive nature – but just being with him. "Why?"

"I've been needing to for a while now. There's this ghost thing . . . I didn't want to leave while you were still sleeping. I didn't want you to wake up alone."

I leaned back to meet his eyes. "Will you be back later?"

"Tonight, at the latest." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I promise."

I threaded my fingers through his. "I'll hold you to that."

"Counting on it," he replied, kissing my lips again before floating off my mattress. "Before I go, not to get you thinking about it, but no regrets from last night?"

"Never," I swore.

Phantom smirked, but there was a sad look to the expression, something that I hadn't seen on his face before. "Good to hear." He added something else, something that I thought sounded like, 'I'll hold you to that.'

But it didn't make any sense; why would I ever regret spending time with him?

"See you tonight!" He gave a wave, "I love you."

"I love you too," I added, returning the gesture.

He disappeared and I collapsed back into the middle of my mattress. Parts of me were still sore, reminding me of how good and attentive Phantom had been last night. I stretched out, feeling a delicious ache in my muscles. With my stretch finished, I rolled over and checked my phone, though it seemed pointless. No one ever really messaged me.

To my immense surprise, I had a text waiting for me. It was received at ten a.m.

_ Sam, want to hang out? – Tara_

I swallowed. It had been a long time since I had even heard from Tara. Yet, I did want to hang out with someone. School was starting up again tomorrow, and I felt like I hadn't done much of anything over my winter break. I hoped the offer still stood, as I had been unintentionally ignoring her for about three hours.

_Tara, I would love to. When&where? – Sam_

I switched my phone's volume on and disappeared into my bathroom to start getting ready. I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard the shrill jingle alerting me to a text message. I toweled off, not wanting to get my floor wet, and returned to my phone's side.

_Mall food court. Half an hour beside McD's._ _– Tara_

_ I'll b there – Sam_

I got dressed hurriedly, only having a narrow window of time. I tossed on my heavy winter coat (though it was only January, I was more than ready for winter to be over and done with) and moved for the stairs.

"Samantha?" Mother called. "Is that you?"

"Yes," I returned.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Meeting a friend at the mall."

"A friend?" Mother paused. "Have fun then, dear. Will you be home for dinner?"

"I assume so. I'll let you know if I'm not going to be."

"Be careful on the roads. It snowed again early this morning." Mother cautioned.

"I will be," I promised. I cut through to the garage, getting into my little car. As I hit the roads I realized Mother had been right. It was slippery. I drove slower than I usually did, making me a few minutes late than I might have been had I gone the speed limit.

The mall wasn't as crowded as I expected, which I was grateful for. I was able to spot Tara immediately as I stepped into the food court. She caught my eye and waved. I returned the gesture, letting her know that I was aware of where she was, before I jumped into the line for Italian food. My stomach was growling. I picked out a cheesy vegetarian pasta and went to sit at Tara's table.

"Hello Sam," she drawled my name holding onto the 'm'.

"Hi," I greeted in return. I didn't know how else to continue so I asked, "how's your break been?"

"Hectic." Tara ran a hand through her hair, fluffing out the already wild strands.

"That doesn't sound like fun," I managed awkwardly.

"It's not." She huffed. "That's why neither Jackson nor I have asked to hang out; we've been busy."

"Doing what?" I asked whilst hungrily devouring my noodles.

"_Packing_," she groaned the word dramatically. "We're moving."

"Moving?" My jaw dropped. It would figure – the only two human friends I had were leaving. "Where? When? Why?"

"Who; what." Tara completed the sequence with a chuckle. "New Orleans. Three days. Because my parents found weed in Jackson's room and decided that this town was a bad influence." She gave a snort in response to her own words.

"Moving seems really extreme," I commented.

"Tell me about it! I have lived my entire life here; I'm all set to go to the local community college in less than a year. And they want to rip me away to an entirely different state? No way." She shook her head violently, trying to siphon off her anger without actually hitting something or someone. "Fuck Louisiana. I want to stay here."

"Louisiana isn't that bad," I managed, though I barely managed to choke the words out.

Tara regarded me. "Oh yeah, you're from there, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"No offense," she continued, "but I really don't want to go."

"I don't blame you," I sighed. "The place is good – I think it's beautiful – but the people, at least the high school kids I had to put up with, were all horrible."

"Figures." She barked a laugh. "Though I suppose the queen bitch resides here, so what do I have to worry about?"

I picture Paullina. "Yeah, and you're leaving me alone while she's angry. Thanks for that; such a good friend."

Tara rolled her eyes. "What's Princess Paullina angry about now? Did Daddy not buy her a new pony?"

"Fenton publicly dumped her," I corrected, getting satisfaction from the utter shock on Tara's face.

"He _what_?" She shrieked.

"Yeah. It was humiliating. She freaked out and flipped the table. And I was sitting right there so it's probably all my fault by now."

Tara laughed, though it was bitter. "I feel for you, bro. Want to come New Orleans with us?"

I let out an equally chilling laugh. "I might have to take you up on that."

"So the power couple is over," Tara mused, picking up my unused plastic knife and starting to play with it. "Wish Valerie Grey was around to see her middle school sweetheart free at last."

I froze at the unexpected name. "It's a shame." I agreed, and wondered, for the first time in a long time, how my friend was doing. I knew that her and her father's ruse had not yet been discovered. I hoped that she was happy and was able to set up a new life – a better life – for herself.

"Maybe I should kill Paullina before I go," Tara mused, though not without a hint of sincere honesty to her words. "Think New Orleans would be a big enough place to hide in?"

"Your call," I shrugged, "though if you want my opinion, Paullina's not worth it."

Tara smiled. "I wouldn't want to dirty these lovely hands with her blood," she agreed, wringing her pale fingers in front of my face.

"We're too high class for her," I chimed in, putting on a posh English accent as I did so.

Tara giggled. "Well, Miss Sam, do you want to shop?"

"I think that sounds great, Miss Tara." I said, following her to the nearest clothing store.

(-.-)

_Sam, I heard that Danny's math teacher is doing a surprise test tomorrow first thing. Will you come help him study tonight? – Jazz_

I groaned. I had been all set to go home – I had just been checking the unexpected beep from my phone while stopped at a red light. I had a wonderful day shopping with Tara, probably the last time I would see her, and I was ready to go home, have a quiet dinner with my mother, and then curl up with Phantom. The last thing I wanted to do was go and try to force numbers into Fenton's thick skull.

Yet, I found myself saying yes to Jazz. There was just something about that girl that made me want to say yes, no matter how little I really wanted to. I put in a quick call to my mother, telling her that I'd had a change of plans and that I wouldn't be home right away. I hung up and turned my car around, travelling the short distance between where I'd stopped and the flamboyant Fentonworks.

I carefully parked and got out of my car. I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck as the cold wind blasted through the streets. I shivered despite myself and knocked on the door, doing a small dance to dispel the numbness in my toes as I waited. Luckily, Fenton was quick at opening the door.

Despite my happiness from the day, I managed to glare at him. "You better be grateful I'm doing this for you."

"I'll give you eternal servitude in return," Fenton said sarcastically.

I kicked my shoes off and hung up my coat. "You say that like I won't take you up on it."

Fenton snorted and waved me into his living room.

"Your parents' home?" I asked, not hearing any noise in the home.

"At a ghost hunting conference." He dropped onto the couch and I took the armchair. "We're alone. Does that scare you?" He raised his eyebrow like a dare. Or like he wanted me to be intimidated by his childish ways.

"No." I waited a second before adding, "but it should scare you."

Fenton regarded me for a moment before letting the subject drop. "All right. Truce. Let's math it up."

I almost sniggered at his word choice but caught myself just in time. I flipped the textbook open, trying to remember where Fenton and I had left off during his last tutoring session. "Jazz didn't give me any specifics on what would be on the test. Did she give you anymore details?"

"Uhm. Chapter 7." Fenton tapped the screen of his phone. "And 8."

I checked the table of contents and found the right pages. "Do you understand any of this?" I asked, waiting for his usual 'no, that's what you're for'.

I looked up when he was silent to find his icy eyes staring intently at me. I felt trapped in his gaze, though I fidgeted, uncomfortable with how he was looking at me. "Can I help you?" I demanded.

Fenton sucked in a breath, eyes dropping to the floor. He closed the textbook with a loud _thunk_. "We need to talk."

"About math?" I reminded him. "That's what I'm here for."

"No," Fenton corrected me. "About Phantom."

**Thanks to my lovely betas: foreversky. I don't own anything recognizable.**

**Don't forget to vote on the poll. Danny's companion is in the lead with a 52%.**

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	36. Chapter 36

I stared at him slack jawed for a long moment, trying to process what he could possibly be talking about. The terrifying thought that Fenton knew about mine and Phantom's relationship drifted across my mind – something that seemed impossible. Phantom and I had never made a public outing together . . . except for Paullina's Halloween party. Yet, Phantom had left soon after arriving and by the time he had returned, I had been so upset that we had departed immediately. Besides, we were both so heavily disguised I doubted Fenton even knew I had been present at the party, let alone the town's ghostly hero.

On the other hand, if Fenton didn't know about my relationship with Phantom, why on earth would he want to discuss Phantom with me?

I realized I'd been staring at Fenton blank-eyed, so I cleared my throat and made my decision to attempt to play dumb, hoping that Fenton wasn't clever enough to catch onto my ruse. "Phantom? Isn't he one of the ghosts in Amity?"

"Don't play me for a fool," Fenton growled. "This is hard enough without you being difficult."

I snorted. "Right. Like you've never been difficult with me."

Fenton ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Sam, there's something that you need to know."

"I guarantee there's nothing I want to know from you."

Fenton's icy eyes seemed to chill even further. "Oh, I guarantee you don't want to know it either."

I shook my head at him. "Fenton, this conversation is getting weird, and frankly, I don't want to deal with it. So, if you have anything of importance to say, spit it out. If not, let's get back to tutoring. And if you can't do one or either of those things, I just want to leave."

Fenton sighed, knotting his fingers together. "May I ask you something?"

"You just did, but carry on."

"Why do you call me 'Fenton' and not by my first name?"

The question caught me off-guard. "Because it's easier for me. Also, I highly dislike you and I find first names are more intimate."

"Why do you dislike me?"

"Because you're an ass hat. You've been cruel to me ever since you first saw me, without any good reason whatsoever. You let your girlfriend abuse me –"

"Ex-girlfriend," Fenton quickly corrected.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. You let her bully me and others in front of you, which you had in your power to stop, but you never did. You just aren't a nice person and I don't feel like you deserve for me to like you."

Fenton bit his bottom lip. "I definitely don't deserve for you to like me – not in the least. And I will admit that I wronged you, and a lot of others. I should have stopped her because I know what Paullina's barbs feel like. Don't forget she used to bully me too. I got so caught up in the high life that I forgot to think about how I used to feel when I was there and how I should have done better by everyone that was my friend. And you're right, of course. I had no good reason to be mean to you. I had no reason to be snarky, or difficult, or to make your life hell whenever I had the opportunity.

"And I want to apologize to you for that. Recently, I've had my eyes opened to a lot of things. And at the top of the list is my own repulsive behavior. I know I can't take back anything I've said or done to you or how I made you feel but I am deeply sorry for it all. I can't apologize enough for it.

"I'm also not naïve enough to think that I can make everything better by apologizing. I also don't think you'll forgive me, and you shouldn't. Goddammit, Sam, you shouldn't. But I'm hoping that you do, especially after I tell you everything."

Fenton was studying his hands intently and I was glad he wasn't looking at me. I was rooted to the spot, muscles tense as I watched him. Something in my stomach was churning – I felt like I was going to vomit – and my heart felt like lead. I had no idea why I was feel so much apprehension, why Fenton's uncharacteristic and heartfelt apology was freaking me out so badly, but I couldn't walk away from his words. Subconsciously, I knew I needed to hear what he was saying though right now, the wanting sensation to run away from his odd mood was all I wanted to do.

When Fenton didn't seem inclined to go on, I knew he was waiting for me to acknowledge him in some way. So, I cleared my dry throat and whispered, "What do you mean by everything?"

"You're not going to believe me," Fenton said quietly, so quietly I knew he was talking to himself. "And you're going to hate me until I die, and probably after that."

I wanted to comment that nothing he had done could make me hate him for that long. Sure, I would probably never like the guy but eventually my feelings toward him would probably mellow out to indifference at the worst. Except, I couldn't say any of this because, suddenly, Fenton was looking at me – intensity bright in his piercing eyes; the high emotion obviously coursing through him took my breath away.

"Promise me something," he demanded, voice harsh.

"I don't owe you any promises," I managed to respond curtly.

"I know. I just thought I'd try. If you can't promise anything, at least let me ask you not to leave until I get my story over with."

"I can do that."

My words didn't seem to settle him at all. If anything Fenton's energy rose; I could almost see the adrenaline coursing through his pale body.

"When I was fourteen Tucker and I were playing down in my parents' lab. It was no big deal, we were always hanging around down there. Mom and Dad had even set up targets so we could shoot the ecto-guns. It was both fun for us and good for them – we could test their inventions while they watched. They weren't in the lab with us that day, but that was no big deal. They trusted us not to fuck up anything as we had been down there so much.

"We spent some time shooting at the targets but Mom and Dad had taken most of the cool weapons with them so we got bored pretty quick. They had just built a ghost portal; spent the better half of the year on it. It's this great big hulking thing and it's ugly as hell but it was their baby, their pride and joy. But when they went to test it out, it didn't turn on. Nothing – not even a tiny spark of electricity. So naturally, they were bummed.

"Tuck and I decided to be nice and fix up the portal for them. He's a massive tech geek and I'm really good with tinkering with shit and getting it to work. I mean, we didn't exactly know what we were doing but we figured we couldn't make it any worse. We were throwing on Hazmat suits – didn't want to get any ectoplasm on us, right? Safety first.

"Anyway, Tucker's looking around at the panel outside. I walk inside – it's like a tunnel, okay? – and I'm just poking around, seeing what they've got going on in there. While I'm inside I hear Tucker yell 'man, you're not gonna believe it; your parents forgot to plug the thing in!' so we were both laughing about it. I mean, how can you not laugh at that? C'mon guys, plug it in.

"Then I look around me and I realize 'hey, they forgot to hit the on button too' so I shout back to Tucker about it. Tucker sticks his head around the side of tunnel and we're both like 'can it really be that simple? There's nothing else wrong with it?' so Tucker goes 'let's test it out and see what happens'. Neither of us was thinking. We're not the brightest bulbs in the box, mind you, but we're not complete morons. One of us should have been like 'wait, Danny, probably shouldn't be standing in the middle of the effing ghost portal when it turns on!' But neither of us thought about it.

"Tuck plugged it in; told me to hit the on button. So I did. And then I felt it. God, I can't even explain that kind of pain to anyone. It was like my insides were now on my outside, like lightning was coursing through my veins. I was going to explode and throw up; I was crying as I felt my blood start to boil inside of my veins. I felt like I was dying. I honestly thought that I was going to die in the portal. But I didn't. Something did happen though; something totally inexplicable. I never told my parents about it – never told another human being. Tucker was there when it happened and Jazz, well, Tucker had to tell Jazz.

"I never thought that what happened would be a problem. It was scary as anything at first but I began to grow. I began to realize that it had led me to something beyond myself; to a destiny more fulfilling than anything I could have done in my regular state. I thought that, beyond my new being, I could continue to live life as I had before. It wouldn't interfere that badly. And it didn't. I mean, I had less of a personal life and next to no time for school, but I wasn't exactly a stellar student before. The point was I could keep the two things separate. It hadn't been hard.

"But then . . . then there was you. And for the first time _this_ life couldn't collide with _that_ life, rather than the other way around. And I look back now and think of how much easier it could have been, had I been honest with you from the very beginning. I could have avoided this, and what's sure to come. Why I didn't . . . It made sense at the time. At the time it made so much fucking sense, but looking back now, I can't understand myself. I was just being selfish. I was being a selfish, worthless, human being and I can't believe I was like that.

"I need you to forgive me, Sam. I need that like I need air to breathe; like I need the sun in the sky and the wind on my face. Please, whatever you do, don't shut me out completely. I would deserve it. I would deserve so much worse, but I don't know what would be worse than you walking out of my life for good. I'm begging you here, don't walk away. Not now, not after so much."

"Fenton, I don't understand. What happened to you in the portal? And why would you care so much about me? As far as I was concerned, we hated one another."

His story had captivated me and I felt an uneasy curiosity within me, burning for the ending. The last bit of his speech, however, had my mind reeling. I had no idea why he would be asking me to not walk away from him – out of his life – as we had never been close; we had always be enemies. I was at a loss. I watched his rigid posture, waiting for him to speak again, waiting for him to respond to my questions.

"Don't hate me," he begged, and I was shocked to see the beginnings of tears in his eyes as he lifted his head to look at me.

I couldn't bring myself to answer. I was too absorbed by the depth of pain reflected on his face.

Fenton stood up.

"Something unnatural happened in that portal. The ectoplasm mixed with my human DNA. It created me; what I am now. And what I am now is a halfa; half human, half ghost. I have two different appearances but one mind, one personality, one heart. And my ghost half became well-known in Amity, I became a hero."

As each word fell from his lips, I felt a blow to my heart. A dawn of understanding began to rise in the back of my mind. Panic began to well within me, battering against the revelation coming over my brain.

Two ethereal rings appeared around Fenton's waist. Slowly they made their way over the rest of his body. Gone was the white t-shirt and jeans replaced instead by a familiar black suit. I lifted my eyes to his face. Once there had been black hair and blue eyes. Now there was white hair and green eyes; a face more familiar to me than my own. The face I dreamed of at night; the face of the boy I loved.

I screamed.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my fantastic betas: foreversky. Don't forget to vote on the poll; Danny's companion is in the lead with a 52%**

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	37. Chapter 37

"Sam," Phantom – no, Fenton – said.

I watched those familiar hands reaching for me, an embrace that I would have willingly run into had it been any other situation. But it was this circumstance, it wasn't me looking into the face of the one I had fallen for, the one I had given my heart, soul and body to. This was me looking into a mask. Phantom was nothing more than an illusion. I had fallen for a _lie._

"What the fuck?" I spat. "What the actual fuck?"

"Please," He begged but I couldn't stand to hear the voice I knew as Fenton's come out of Phantom's lips.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I not have seen _this_? How could I have spent multiple hours out of every day with Phantom and not have seen that he was Fenton? How could I have lain there, in his arms, night after night and listened to his lies and _believed_ them? How could I have possibly never questioned it?

But how and why could he have not told me?

"Change back," I ordered, shielding my eyes from the body in front of me. I was sinking into the chair, too weak to move. I could feel myself slipping further and further down the chair as if it were a deep black bottomless pit; I had no will to pick myself up. My thoughts were spinning so wildly that I thought my head was simply going to detach from my neck and roll into my lap.

As I tried to muddle through what I was feeling, trying to come to some sort of understanding, I realized it just wasn't going to happen. I wasn't going to be able to sit with my legs curled up to my chest and think my way through this because I didn't understand him. I didn't know him in the way I thought I did because I really didn't know him at all. All along I thought I was with Phantom – a ghost, someone who I could never truly have and hold as my own – but that wasn't the case. I was with Fenton, who had continually gone out of his way to glare at me and make my life feel like hell; him _and _his girlfriend.

"Paullina!" I blurted, dropping my hand away from in front of my eyes. I looked at the male in front of me, once again with dark hair. "You were with Paullina while I was with . . . " I could bring myself to say the name, "_him_."

"I told you I made a lot of really fuckin' stupid decisions," Fenton sighed. "The moment I realized that I wanted you I should have left here, because she never could have meant half as much to me as you do."

I stared at him for a few seconds. "I have to go," I said evenly, surprising myself with the calm in my voice.

"Sam," Fenton's hand stretched out, touching my arm.

I felt a jolt in the pit of my stomach; there was a familiar chill residing in his fingers. My body was reacting to his touch, confirming what my mind would not accept. The ghost I loved and the human I hated were the same person.

"Don't touch me," I hissed.

Fenton's arm collapsed back by his side. "We're not done talking," he breathed.

"I can't talk right now. I can't even think." My hands shook as I put my coat on. I needed to get home, to get somewhere safe before I completely lost it.

"When can I come see you?" He asked.

"You can't!" I spat, feeling a wave of anger beginning to come over me, "What would ever make you think that I would want to talk to you?"

"Because," he floundered for a minute, his cheeks puffing out, "because we love each other."

"I don't love you! I don't even _know_ you. You were just using me –"

"I WAS NOT USING YOU!" Fenton interrupted with a shout. "I would never dream of such a thing."

"Then explain it to me," I returned. "Explain why you never told me who you were. Explain why you were always so cruel to me. Explain why you were with two girls at the same time. And for the love of everything, why the fuck would you break my heart right after I gave everything to you?"

Fenton closed his eyes. "You need to let me explain more."

I shook my head. "I've heard enough. I know you lied to me. I know you pretended to be someone you're not. I know you didn't give a fuck about my feelings. I know I'm done with you."

"I'm telling you the truth _now_. I was more real with you than I think I've been with anyone else; despite the change in appearance I was never anyone else." He took a step closer to me and I drew in a breath.

I tensed because I knew what was coming next. I had seen that look before; that expression before. Same face, different details. I held my breath as Fenton's fingers – cold against my skin – tilted my chin up, making me look at him. I was statue still as he pressed his lips to mine. Despite myself I felt myself leaning into the contact: I _knew_ this kiss, I _craved_ this kiss. I had woken up to this and fallen asleep to this. I had felt this fluttering along my collarbones, tattooing this feeling along my skin. It was easy, with my eyes closed, with just feeling him there, to think that nothing had changed. That I would open my eyes and it would be Phantom like it had always been.

But I knew it wasn't. My brain pulsed and my heart ached with this horrible truth. It wasn't Phantom, it was Fenton and I just couldn't take this. I opened my eyes and pushed him away. Tears were beginning to prick painfully at my eyes. I turned away so Fenton wouldn't see me cry. I had my hand on the knob of his front door when Fenton spoke again.

"I never cared about anything but your feelings. I know my timing is shit and I should have told you months ago, but I couldn't let this go any further without being honest with you. And I need it to go further. I know you need time, and I respect that because I was the one who fucked up. I would be an idiot to think that you could forgive me just like that, I know you're not. But you can't just be done with me, Sam. I can't handle that."

"I am done." I said, voice so forceful even I believed it. "How could I ever . . . " I let my sentence trail off as my mind came up with too many options for the blank.

How could I ever trust him again? How could I ever love him again? How could I look in his face and not feel betrayal? How could I ever heal from this? How could I live my life knowing that the one person who had seemed to understand the most had been the one to hurt me the most?

"Goodbye."

And I walked out the door. It felt satisfying to slam it shut behind me. I let the wind rip across my face, relishing in how alive the cold made me feel. I shuffled to my car, dragging my heels on the sidewalk. The noise grated on my ears and the petty annoyance helped to keep my mind from what transpired. I got into my car and cranked the radio. Before I pulled out of my parking spot and headed for home, I looked over my shoulder, back at Fenton Works.

He was standing at the front door, his face framed by the window. I couldn't stand to see the look on his face –so sad, so destroyed – when it was he that brought it upon himself. He had no right to look at me like I was the source of his pain when all of this had been his fault. I didn't tell him to lie to me. I didn't tell him to be two people at once – lead two separate lives.

I think the part that bothered me was how he dared look heartbroken when he was the one who destroyed me.

I drove home quickly, not caring about the slippery roads and the bad weather conditions. If I crashed, I crashed. It wouldn't hurt me any more. I made it home safely, breezing through the front door. I was glad that, for once, my mother was more absent than present. I darted up the stairs, throwing myself into my room.

Once I was inside, I paused and took a deep breath. I felt . . . disappointed. I don't know what I expected. I think I was expecting Phantom to already be lounging on my bed, white hair in his eyes, peering up at me, a grin on his face. He would look so happy and carefree and ask where I'd been and I would complain about Fenton because things would be normal and my life wouldn't have been a lie. I wouldn't have fallen in love only to find out that the person I loved was not the person I thought he was at all.

As it was, my bedroom was empty. There was no Phantom waiting for me because he was Fenton and Fenton was in his own house where I had left him.

I peeled off my clothes and climbed into bed. I let the blankets settle around my body and tried not to think of the night before when it had been his arms around me. Yet, it was impossible not to think about. It was impossible not to be caught up in the past, going over and over the past few months, and realizing what an idiot I'd been. Now that I knew the truth, now that it was staring me in the face, I couldn't look back at all of my memories with him – I'd even dreamed about it! – and see Fenton staring back at me.

It was terrifying that I had not seen, or had subconsciously chosen to be blind to, who he realize was. I had spent time with Fenton; so much time that I had unwillingly learned the nuances of his speech and his movements. I had spent time with Phantom, had learned him from the inside out. And yet, even when it had occurred to me that there might be some kind of similarity there, I had brushed it aside. I had bought into the stuttering lies that had been so easily fed to me because I hadn't wanted to know the truth.

But now I did.

Now I had to wrap my head around the fact that there wasn't a Fenton _and_ a Phantom. They were the same; they were one. It wasn't Phantom. It was always Fenton. Fenton with his lying lips that had kissed me after leaving Paullina's side, or vice versa. I felt a tug of sympathy for the cruel girl; neither of us had deserved to be cheated on, especially by one who did it so easily.

I curled into a ball, my arms locking around my pillow, bringing it to my midsection. I just wanted comfort. I wanted to escape from my reeling thoughts; thoughts that seemed to have no beginning, no end. There was no purpose to these thoughts except that they brought me pain every time they floated across my mind.

I let the tears fall, grieving for what I had lost. I had lost a loved one; Phantom was truly dead. He was an illusion, a trick brought on by Fenton's lab accident. He wasn't real, didn't exist. He was just a façade of Fenton's. I had loved someone who was no more than a negative image of Fenton. Except Phantom had been the positive. He had constantly been the light in my day when Fenton had been the dark.

I sobbed, bitterly.

I couldn't do this; I couldn't lose him but I couldn't love someone who wasn't there.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky. Don't forget to vote on the poll: Danny's companion is winning at 52%. Get your votes in before it closes – only about 3 chapters left of **_**Reflections**_**!**

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	38. Chapter 38

There came a soft knock at my door. "Samantha?" My mother called, with concern.

I burrowed deeper under my blankets. I hadn't left my room for two days, except for in the dead of night. Fuck school; fuck life; fuck everything. My bed liked me and that's all that I needed to focus on. After days of crying, of screaming silently to myself and still not knowing _why_, I was utterly drained. I was incapable of caring and my emotions were diminishing. My mind was numb, but most importantly, my heart was numb.

"What?" I droned.

"Are you all right?"

I heard the confusion in her voice and I thought, _I should feel guilty._ Mother was probably worried that I was regressing. She probably thought that I was back in that place – the place that had driven me to my suicide attempt. But this was not the same place. This was not the same pain. This pain was more absolute, somehow. It was more plaguing and raw.

"Yes," I rasped, hoping that she would go away. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to have to pretend that I was okay. I didn't want her to see that I wasn't okay.

"Well," I felt her hesitation radiating through the closed door. "Your father is here. I told him you weren't feeling well but he wanted me to ask if you wanted to see him."

I stayed silent. I couldn't make a decision right now; I couldn't think through the pros and cons of having another conversation with my father after our last one.

"I think you should, honey." Mother continued in a low voice. "He and I have been talking about you since the last time you and he spoke and I think that he's really come a long way. You might not think he deserves another chance but I don't think it could hurt anything."

There was a long pause.

"Okay," I agreed. If was what she wanted was for me to go talk to Dad, I would. It saved me from having to think about it and that might save her from asking why I had imprisoned myself (I didn't want to explain that I was serving the sentence for someone else's crimes).

"I'll go tell him!" Mother gushed, obviously relieved. I heard her heels on the floor as she tottered away from my door back down the stairs.

I pushed myself shakily out of bed, pulling on a pair of discarded yoga pants and a sweatshirt. I yanked the hood up around my features, trying to mask the fact that I hadn't been sleeping or eating. I also didn't want anyone to see my puffy, hot-to-the-touch, red, crying eyes. I took a deep breath to prepare myself for the upcoming encounter and then I left my bedroom.

Mother was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. She gave me an encouraging smile and pointed me towards the living room. I dragged myself into the room where my father was sitting on the couch, waiting for me. His head was planted in his hands and he didn't look up when I entered. I stood just inside of the entrance way, leaning against the wall. I crossed my arms against my chest and cleared my throat. He could talk all he wanted; I wasn't intending to do anything but listen.

Dad's head flew up at the noise. He looked over at me.

"I'm sorry, Samantha." His voice – usually so strong and confident – seemed shaky; weary. "I didn't understand you at all. And I was wrong to judge you for something that you couldn't control; something horrible that you tried to fix in your own way. I was just wrong, in so many ways when it came to you. And I can't apologize enough for it. I can't say any words to make it better; I can't take any action to make it better. I just hope you know that I'm sincere."

_ Tis the season for apologies,_ my mind went sarcastically. I rolled my eyes at myself.

"Thank you for the apology."

"Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?"

I dropped my gaze to the floor. What could I possibly want from him; ask from him? I didn't want to take anything from him just so he could feel better about himself. While I appreciated the apology and while I thought I saw something genuine glinting in his eyes when he spoke, I didn't want to accept something just so he could feel at peace with ignoring me and belittling me. Besides, there was nothing I wanted that he could give.

My father couldn't give me peace at mind. My father couldn't take away my memories. My father couldn't change the truth.

I felt tears well up in my eyes and I tried desperately to squash them down.

"Is there, Samantha?"

I didn't respond.

"All right," he sighed heavily. "I'm planning on moving in here, with you and your mom. I've been away for far too long and the business really doesn't need constant monitoring."

My head flew up. "What about the house in New Orleans?"

Dad shrugged. "I might sell it or rent it."

My stomach churned and, as I thought the words, I blurted them. "Can I move into it?"

My father's eyebrows shot toward his hairline. "The house in New Orleans?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Why?" He blurted, his eyebrows heading for his nose. "Why do you want to go back there?"

"Because," I stuttered, thinking deeply about my sudden decision, "I think that if I go back there I might find myself – you know, who I was before everything."

I looked into my father's eyes, hoping that he would understand. For everything he hadn't understood about me, for everything he hadn't tried to understand, I was owed comprehension on this. I needed him to realize, to know deep into his core, that letting me go back to New Orleans was the right thing for me. Because I knew it was; though I couldn't explain why it was, though I didn't understand where this was going to lead me, I knew that I couldn't make a better decision for myself right now.

"Well," he said slowly, "I don't suppose that it would hurt once school is out for the three of us to go back for the summer."

I shook my head. "No. I want to go now by myself."

"Now? What about school? And on your own? Samantha, you are only a child."

"I'm not a child anymore." I argued. "And I can do all of my schooling online like I did before."

Dad looked at me. "I'll discuss it with your mother," he consented. "If this is what you really want, and if you're sure it's the best decision for you, then I give you my blessing for going."

"Thank you," I said, trying not to be stiff but unable to bring any sort of emotion to my voice. I turned and walked out of the room. I was striding toward my stairs when my mother's hand darted out, catching me around the bicep. I spun to face her.

"Samantha," she said, voice soft. There was a knowing look in her eye that made me know she had been eavesdropping on my conversation with Dad. "Do you truly think you're going to be happy going back there?"

I averted my gaze, looking instead at the stairs. "I think I need to."

She slid her hand down the length of my arm, taking my own hand in hers, like I was a child again. "I don't want to see you get hurt there."

"It's gotten too hard to be in Amity," I revealed. "I can't stay here anymore. I'm going to be going to college next year and everything is going to change. And before that happens, I need to go back to New Orleans and rediscover what I left there."

She squeezed my fingers. "Are you sure you don't want us to come with you?"

"I need to go on my own." I said firmly.

"When do you want to go there?"

"Sooner rather than later. Every second I spend in this town I feel like I'm drowning more and more."

Suddenly, Mother yanked me into a tight embrace. "If you want to talk to me you can. I know I'm not the most attentive mother but I do love you and I want you to know you can always come to me."

I held her in return. "I just need to get out of here."

"We can make it happen for Saturday," Mother swore.

"Thank you," I managed. I let go of her swiftly and made for my bedroom. My feet pounded the stairs and I felt as though my legs were going to give out with every movement I made. I made it to my bedroom, closed the door, and slid down the wood.

I curled my legs up to my forehead and let myself rest in that position. Tears began to well but they didn't pain me as I began to shed them. I wasn't crying from pain; I was crying from relief. I was getting out of Amity. In just a few days I was going to be able to walk away from this place and my pain would, hopefully, disintegrate into a memory – just like Phantom was always supposed to end up.

Despite the fact that I was going back to New Orleans, a place of pain, I felt good about it. It was going to be good to reconnect with that forgotten piece of myself. There was a time before the complete pain in New Orleans. Though I was never an accepted child, I'd had peace with myself once. There had been moments of happiness in New Orleans; I had been at one with myself and I didn't have the insecurities I carried with me now. I was convinced that if I returned there I would be able to come to terms with who I had become since I was that person. And once I came to terms with myself, as all of the books, quotes, and movies taught me, happiness would follow.

And I craved happiness; craved it like a lost rose in the dead of winter. I could feel pain in every beat of my heart. Every time I blinked, his face would flash – lightning fast – across my eyelids. And even though it was only for a fraction of a second I could see that face (each damned face; each perfect, loved, hated damned face) in tortured detail. And it would fuel my hurt again. All of my wounds, which would never have a chance to heal if this continued to happen, would tear open again. I could feel myself bleeding from the inside out; the same place I was screaming from.

I was screaming for freedom. I was screaming to be released from my thoughts, my memories, and the truth. The truth that the best time of my life and the best person I would ever meet was only a lie. The word _illusion, illusion, illusion_ echoed in my head. I fell asleep wishing that I would wake up and learn it had been a nightmare; that Phantom had never lied to me. I would wake up and Fenton would be an enemy and Phantom would be loved and there would be no correlation between the two. But every time I opened my eyes the hammer came to my heart, smashing the pieces smaller and smaller. Eventually I was going to turn to dust.

I felt like my mind was stuck on a hamster wheel. I kept thinking the same thoughts over and over again; I kept wishing the same wishes. I kept thinking his name. I kept hearing his words – that blasted story that flipped my life upside down. I didn't know how to wrestle myself free of him but I was going to fight for it.

I didn't want to remember him.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky. Don't forget to vote on the poll – Danny's companion is in the lead with 54%. One more chapter and the epilogue left!**

**~TLL~**


	39. Chapter 39

I took a long breath and surveyed my bedroom. It was nearly empty; my posters had vanished from the walls, my books and clothes were all neatly packed in boxes. All that I had remaining was my bed and the small suitcase I was going to keep in my car with me. The rest of my belongings were already in a moving van on their way to New Orleans. I looked at the emptiness with a sense of calm; I wasn't feeling any anxiety at all, even though I had thought that I would be. I became even more convinced that going back was the right thing do with every minute that slipped away.

I curled up on my bed with _The Great Gatsby_, needing a way to keep myself occupied before going to sleep. And then, in the morning, I would be setting off on my road trip. There was a fluttering in the pit of my stomach when I thought of it – it was a sense of excitement. In fact, it almost felt as though that excitement was knocking against my organs. I frowned as I realized that it wasn't an internal feeling; something was literally knocking. My frown transformed into an angry expression as I realized that it wasn't Mother or Dad knocking on my bedroom door, something was knocking at my balcony door.

And there was only one person that could be.

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't want to see him. Despite my anger and sadness, there was still some part of me that loved who I thought he had been; loved the Phantom in him. I hated that part of me – hated that there was something in me that longed to kiss him again, to have him hold me and whisper in my ear that he cared. I knew better than that; I knew he would never kiss or hold me again. I knew that he had never cared about me. I swallowed the knot that appeared in my throat and turned back to my book. He could stand there all night if he wanted to, I wasn't inviting him in.

It turned out, however, that Fenton didn't care about whether or not he had in an invitation. He waltzed through the balcony door, bright blue eyes shining. "Sam! I need to – What the hell is going on in here?"

"Like you have any right to know," I replied coldly. "Now, get out of my house."

His gaze shifted from my walls to my face. "We need to talk."

"Oh, I think you've done enough talking," I scoffed. "Now, get out of my house."

"No, there are things that we do need to talk about. I've given you time to think it through. I have given you space to be on your own. But I need you, Sam. I need you to be with me. I am in love with you; I never will be with anyone else. And don't you dare deny that we didn't love each other, because we did."

"No," I argued. "I can say that we didn't love each other. Because if you ever actually loved me then you wouldn't have lied to me, you wouldn't have insulted me, and you wouldn't have made me feel horrible and worthless. And I can say that I never loved you because I despised you, Fenton. I loved someone who wasn't there, someone who isn't real."

Tears began to build behind my eyes, threatening to spill through my lashes. I pulled my knees up to my chest and hid my face. I wanted him to leave; I wanted him gone. I didn't want to face this conversation. I had heard enough the first night he explained himself, I didn't need to rehash everything only to get hurt again. I was still feeling the first heartbreak and to prod that further only showed how cruel Fenton truly was.

"Phantom is real." The name spilled so easily from Fenton's lips but I flinched at it. "I am him; he is me. We. Are. Not. Two. People."

"But you are!" I burst out. "Or you've got multiple personality disorder, I don't know! But you've got something wrong up in that head of yours. What else makes you think it's all right to lie to me, to cheat on Paullina _and_ me, and to make me fall in love with you just to break my heart? I loved what I thought was _real_. Do you know how shattering it is to wake up in love one morning and go to bed the next knowing that your world was a lie; that the person you trusted everything to was a lie?

"I'm betting that you don't. If you had felt this pain, if you knew what it was like to feel as if you were being stabbed with every single heartbeat then you wouldn't have caused this pain to anyone else. You're an asshole, in the truest meaning of the word. You are a rotten lowlife! I can't believe you would have the audacity to do that to me and then act like everything would be okay after you apologizing because you still 'love me'. Bullshit. _BULLSHIT!_

"And don't you stand there and look wounded. You deserve everything I say to you and more. So, I want you to listen really carefully to me. You hurt me, bad, and I'm not going to get over that. I'm not going to forgive you, no matter what you say or claim. You are a cheater and a liar, and I really hope you can fix that. I wish you the best of luck in the future but I assure you that you will not be a part of my life anymore. I'm leaving in the morning here in the morning, Fenton, and that's going to be it."

Fenton ran a hand over his pale face, blinking furiously. He bit down on his lower lip. "Okay," his voice was low and harsh. "But, look, you've said your piece. Can I say mine?"

"You had your piece," I reminded him.

"But I still feel as though there's more that I have to say; more ways that I can phrase 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you'. Something that will make you believe me again. There's got to be something I can say that can make all of this right."

I shook my head. "If there was ever a time to make this right it would have been in the very beginning; before you ever had to utter a lie to me. That would have been the right time."

"Will you tell me where you're going?"

"No." I peeked at him over the tops of my knees. He was still standing by my balcony doors and though I had siphoned off a lot of anger while yelling at him, I still felt like lunging at him and pushing him out those doors, watching as he finally left me alone to heal. "I don't feel like you deserve to know that."

He shrugged. Then he took a step toward me. I curled up tighter, hoping I could tell him with body language that I didn't want him closer; I wanted him completely gone. Except, watching the light fall across his defined features and seeing Phantom in his face instead, I wanted to bring him closer. I wanted to close my eyes, take him in my arms, and imagine – for one last time, at least – that nothing had happened; everything was just the same.

But I couldn't go back. The last time had already gone and I couldn't change what I already knew, couldn't change my feelings. And yes, they were the same person. And that person was a liar and a cheater; I couldn't forget that, or forgive it.

"I don't deserve anything," he whispered, voice broken.

"No, you don't," I agreed.

He took another step toward me. He sat on the edge of my bed and I slid into the furthest corner from him. I didn't think about other times – times long passed – when he had been in this bed (without me knowing that he was Fenton, of course) and I had loved him. I tried not to think of the night – not long ago at all – when we had lay in this bed together and made loved. I ached at the very thought of it.

"Can I ask you something?"

I snorted in response, knowing that no matter what I said, he was going to ask me anyway. Perhaps, though, if I let him ask his question, he would finally leave. I could watch him waltz out of my door and never have to face this again. I could let it all fade away and forget about the person I had been when I had loved him.

He studied my face quietly for a moment. "I'm going to take that as a yes."

"Sure."

"Can I, please, have another chance?"

"Get out." I snapped, my anger flaring again. "Get out, get out, get out!"

"I didn't mean to offend you!"

"Offend me? _OFFEND ME?_ I am insulted – what kind of a person did you think I was? When I said I hated you, I meant it. And I don't give second chances to anyone, let alone people I hate."

His face crumpled. Something in his bright blue eyes seemed to dull and slip away. His lips pursed, his eyebrows drew, and he could no longer look at me.

"What?" I snapped before I could stop myself. I didn't want to continue this conversation; I didn't want to keep him in my room.

(Except a part of me did; I couldn't seem to forget about that part of me because it was so loudly crying out for him – it was in agony knowing that he was so close and that I couldn't reach for him. But I couldn't let that part win. I knew that Fenton was bad news – I had known it all along – but now I could see his true colours).

"You never said you hated me before," he whimpered. He sounded like a broken child and I felt an unexpected pang of guilt for making him hurt.

And then I quickly remembered what an ass hat he was and buried that sliver of feeling as deep inside of me as it would possibly go.

"What else did you expect? That it would be sunshine and rainbows? That you could confess, crawl back less than a week later and I would be waiting around for you? Real life doesn't work like that. In reality, when you hurt someone, especially when you hurt someone badly, you don't get forgiven. People are changed by pain, especially when someone they love put them through it." I shook my head at him. "Honestly, I would think you'd would know better."

"I was hoping that you loved me enough." He put his head in his hands. "I got so wrapped up in protecting who I was and who I thought that I wanted to be that I didn't focus on the truth and what was important until it was much too late. I could have told you in the beginning but that was my secret identity – you don't just go and throw that into other people's faces, especially when it's some girl I just met."

"What about when I stopped being some girl?"

Fenton sighed. "You have a point there. I'm just trying to get you to understand."

"I understand enough. You hurt me and the entire time you were doing it you thought that it was the logical thing to do."

"I-"

"No," I cut him off. "No more explanations. No more attempts. I'm serious now. It's time for you to get out of my house and out of my life."

Fenton stood up and I felt a tug within me – one of remorse and one of relief.

"Are you sure I can't ever see you again?" He asked. "Not even ten years from now?"

"I'll never want to see you again," I assured him.

He crossed over to where I was seated. I looked up at him, tensing myself to kick him in the groin if he dared try anything. I almost expected him to kiss me or try something equally daring. Instead, he wrapped his arms lightly around me, giving me a hug that I didn't return. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. I closed my eyes at the feather light, cold touch.

When I opened my eyes again, he was gone. I didn't know whether to sob like I had been doing for days or smile because it was over – everything with him was finally done. I didn't do either. I turned off my light and went to sleep.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: foreversky. Don't forget to get your last minute votes in on the poll – only one chapter left after this! – Danny's companion is still in the lead with a 53%!**

**For those of you who are concerned that Sam and Danny won't wrap everything up by the end of the epilogue, please remember that this story was designed to have a sequel; the last chapter of **_**Reflections**_** was never meant to be the end of the story!**

**~TLL~**


	40. Author's Note

**AN: There seems to be some confusion. This story is designed for a sequel, however as of right now, it is not being written. People voted on the poll for Danny's companion story, which is coming out on May 16****th****. The week before a one-shot connected to this universe will be coming out.**

** After the companion story is written then I may look at putting the sequel into production!**

**~TLL~**


	41. Chapter 41

I let out a long breath. My hands were starting to cramp from being wrapped around the steering wheel for so long. I flexed them the best that I could, hitting the brakes as I came to a set of stoplights in yet another small town I was passing through. As I waited for the light to change, I could feel his memory welling back to me – something I had been battling fiercely since last night. I didn't want him in my mind any longer; something that was easier said than done. I spun the tune dial on my radio, hoping I would pick up a station. All of my favourites had faded to static hours ago.

To my relief, I found a song. I hoped that the unfamiliar melody would help keep my mind off the past several months. I hoped that it would save me the heartache from thinking about him at all. Unfortunately, the song related just a little too uncomfortably closely to my situation. And, as I drove, the lyrics wormed free my memories.

His face began to flash against every street sign I saw; I could feel his cold touch on my skin despite the heat in my car being turned up the whole way. I could feel a rogue tear dripping from the corner of my eye. I blinked it away, focusing on the black of the road and how I was so close to my destination – so close that things were starting to look familiar. I had driven through this city many times – I had to pass through it to get to my old neighborhood.

My heart fluttered in my chest as I recognized the streets I had become familiar with in childhood. I had grown up walking these roads, watching the other children play and wishing I could join them. I knew these houses – my mother's friends and their perfect little daughters (ones that had grown up to mock me) lived in these houses. I followed the street up to the very end, where it turned off into a long driveway. I signaled down the drive, following the row of trees that I had learned to climb before the age of ten. I stopped in front of the grand white house sitting at the end of the driveway.

I felt tears prick my eyes; not because I was sad, but because I was finally home.

(-.-)

I ventured out to the local market. It had the best produce around – something that I needed a lot of, considering my anti-meat stance. I was picking through the sweet potatoes when I heard a voice behind me – a high pitched voice that sounded almost like an American Paullina.

"Samantha Manson?"

I pasted a smile on my face. This was no Paullina; though the queen bee of Casper was much more recent, much closer on my mind, this girl was not here. Leslie – blonde haired, blue eyed – was the queen around this part of town. I turned around and she looked much different than I remembered her. She was no longer prancing around in short skirts and high boots with her cleavage on display. This girl had her hair in a messy bun and was dressed in a modest coat and jeans that did nothing to hide her baby bump.

"Leslie," I breathed. "Wow."

She cocked her head to the side. "You've been gone a long time."

"I have," I agreed.

"I was going to come see you, after." She revealed quickly. I opened my mouth to speak but she interrupted me. "No, don't say anything. I need to be selfish here; I've been trying not to be for the past few months because I wanted to be a better person when I bring my child into the world. And that involves clearing my conscience and that involves you. I heard what you did and I instantly knew that it was my fault."

She grabbed my hand, her fingers icy cold. I looked into her shining eyes and saw an overwhelming guilt reflected there.

"All of those things I said to you, all of the times my friends and I simply shut you out, every little thing we laughed over . . . My God, looking back at it all now, we were simply awful to you. And I didn't wake up to how horrible of a human being I was until you . . . took desperate measures. I want to tell you how sorry I am. For everything."

"I appreciate the apology, Leslie. I truly do." I offered her a comforting smile.

She smiled back at me, beauty glowing through the simple expression. "Are you back for good now?"

"Until the end of summer, then I'm off to school."

"We should speak again."

"Sure," I agreed, not entirely confident I wanted such a thing to happen.

"Well, see you around."

"See you."

I turned back to the sweet potatoes, finding that my hands were trembling.

(-.-)

Despite the cold, I went out onto my roof. I thought of another rooftop, states away, where I had once sat with a ghostly boy. I toyed with the snow on the shingles, thinking of hair white as snow and a touch just as cold. For one night, I let the wind whistle over me and I allowed his memory to overtake me. I thought of the beginning when he was just my friend, to when we had truly kissed for the first time, to how I fell in love with him over time, to how we fell together in a tangle of limbs, to his final confessions that pierced my soul.

I could still feel that pain. I thought that it would fade; that the chaos of moving, of the rise of memories in this place, would force him to the back of my mind. But that wasn't how it worked. He wasn't fading, wasn't disappearing from my mind. If anything – through time and distance – he began to grow in my mind. Memories of him, instead of becoming tattered a blurred, became clear and defined. I could feel him next to me, could feel his lips against mine, as sharply as though he were actually there – as if we had just kissed.

I tried not to think of the last kiss I had shared with him. When he had kissed me as Fenton, moments after I had felt my heart melt into my shoes, and I had kissed him back, knowing full well that I would never be able to do so again.

(-.-)

Tara and Jackson had a successful move to New Orleans. They did not live as close to me as any of us had hoped we would, but it was nice to know that friendly faces were only an hour and a half away from me, and that we could visit regularly. I was increasingly enjoying Tara's presence, as she somehow knew that my heart was in tatters. She dragged me shopping, rock climbing, horseback riding; she was just trying to get me out of my comfort zone and to experience life – I was eternally thankful.

Jackson, on the other hand, I was getting the increasing urge to kick. Despite being the reason their family had relocated to another state, he did nothing but complain about the circumstance and seek out further troubles. Tara had whispered that he had found drugs here; stuff much harder than the weed he had been playing around with in Amity. I wasn't concerning myself with his drug habit – if Jackson wanted to ruin his life, he was well within his rights to do so.

I wanted to kick him because he would never stop talking about Phantom. While his crush had somewhat amused me when I had been with Phantom, now it only infuriated me. He would go on about the ghost boy's hair (but what did he know about how it waved in the wind only to fall back into the same messy spot), his heroic deeds (but he was so much _more_ than that and so much _less_; he was a hero but he was also a useless, lying human), and his beautiful eyes (but what did he know about those green eyes that glowed in the darkness and didn't just see me in fine detail but could read my thoughts just as easily?).

I stopped talking to Jackson.

Tara never asked why.

(-.-)

After I had been in New Orleans for a month and a half, I got a message from Tucker. I remembered the boy's last attempt at friendship and how genuine it had seemed. I read the message with curiosity though there wasn't much to it. He said he was sorry for Fenton's behavior and that the two still weren't talking; he asked how I was doing and if I missed Amity at all.

I thought about not replying. I thought about not trusting Tucker and assuming that it was only Fenton playing me through another means. It would be an easy conclusion to come too, except that I didn't want to come to that conclusion. I didn't want to be bitter and I didn't want to think the worst of people. I especially didn't want Fenton to be the reason I started hating the rest of the world – I had enough reasons to be angry at the universe without him making it worse.

So, I replied to Tucker. And something grew from there in the following months. It never came close to being a relationship – it never came to close to brushing attraction on either ends. Somehow, we just became friends (though some claim it's impossible for a guy and a girl to be just friends). I understood him and he understood me; we both liked the same humor. I almost regretted not becoming friends with Tucker while I was still in Amity, though based on who he was running with at the time, I could see why it hadn't happened.

The one topic that neither of us ever mentioned or even went near was Fenton. Tucker tactfully left him out of conversation and I barely talked about my months in Amity at all. I was relieved for the mutual understanding; I was getting better and better at leaving Fenton in the past. The small part of me that had craved for him to be closer, that had needed to hear any news on him at all, was dying away more and more every day. It barely existed anymore and I knew that, very soon, it would disappear.

(-.-)

Leslie's mother, Anne, rushed me into her home with a bright smile. I recognized her from a plethora of Mother's parties from when Mother still lived here. She led me to the living room, where Leslie and several other young girls and their mothers sat. Baby shower presents were piled in one corner, and I added my own gift to the pile. Leslie pulled me into the seat next to her and introduced me to the room, though many of these girls had been my tormentors and knew very well who I was.

Some of them wouldn't look at me. Some of them glared at me, letting me know that they were still in control. A very few, those who were like Leslie, met my eyes apologetically and offered me hopeful smiles; I returned those looks and suddenly I had made a few acquaintances who, by the beginning of summer, had turned into friends.

(-.-)

It was nearing the middle of July and it was a sweltering day. I was curled up in the shade of my front porch, letting the warmth lay across my skin. I flipped the page of my book and my warm fingers left pads of sweet on the inside of the pages. I dropped the book, realizing that it was fruitless to try to think in the heat. I rolled over onto my stomach and took a deep breath, letting the summer day relax me.

My dreamy state was interrupted by the sharp ringing of my phone. I groped around for the infernal thing. "Hello?" I mumbled, bringing it to my ear.

"Hello, Samantha!" My mother's voice rang shrilly though the phone.

"What's up?" I slurred.

"I wanted to discuss something with you."

"Shoot."

"Since you are going away to college in the fall – too far away, in my opinion – I had an idea."

"New York isn't that far away," I mumbled.

"Nevertheless, I want you to come home for the summer."

"New Orleans is my home," I countered, feeling a flutter of panic building in the pit of my stomach – a sensation that had become unfamiliar over the past few months.

"Fair enough. I would like you to come see me, at my home in Amity Park, for the remainder of the summer."

"Mother, I don't know." I managed reluctantly.

"Please, dearest daughter of mine? It would mean so much to my old heart."

How could I say no to her when she said things like that?

"All right, Mother. I'll come home at the beginning of August."

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas, foreversky, for being so fantastic during this fic; **_**Reflections**_** wouldn't be what it is without them! And thanks to you, my readers, for making this such a joy to write and for making **_**Reflections**_** my first fic with over 1000 reviews!**

**Here's the new schedule! May 9****th**** I will be publishing a one-shot songfic titled **_**Better Than Me**_** which is a small peek into Danny's mindset after **_**Reflections.**_** On May 16****th**_**Wonderwall**_** – Danny's companion – will make its debut and I will continue to update on Wednesdays to the best of my ability.**

**Also, the song Sam briefly alludes to in the very beginning is _Cold As Stone_ by _Lady Antebellum_ which inspired the end of the story, especially this chapter. It should definitely be checked out; it's a fantastic song.**

**Thanks again for being so fantastic! I hope to see you all at **_**Better Than Me**_** and **_**Wonderwall!**_

**~TLL~**


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